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UNIVERSITY  OF  N.C.  AT  CHAPEL  HILL 


00022229287 


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FANCIFUL   TALES 


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SO    MANY    THINGS    STOP    AT    NIGHT — SUCH    AS    THE    DAY    ITSELF — THAT    I 
THINK  YOU  OUGHT  TO  PARDON  MY  POOR  CLOCK. 


FANCIFUL    TALES 


BY 

FRANK  R.  STOCKTON 


EDITED  WITH  NOTES  BY 

JULIA  ELIZABETH  LANGWORTHY 

TEACHER  IN  THE  CHICAGO  PUBLIC  SCHOOLS 


WITH  AN  INTRODUCTION  BY 
MARY  E.  BURT 


CHARLES  SCRIBNER'S  SONS 
NEW  YORK  CHICAGO  BOSTON 


Copyright,  1894,  by 
CHARLES  SCRIBNER'S  SONS 


Copyright,  1922,  by 
N.  S.  STOCKTON  and  F.  A.  STOCKTON 


Printed  in  the  United  States  of  America 
H 


PREFACE 

It  is  because  I  have  found  that  children  love 
Stockton's  stories,  that  they  appreciate  the 
delicate  bits  of  humor  found  in  them,  and  en- 
joy discussing  the  ethical  questions  suggested, 
that  I  have  arranged  in  this  book  a  few  of  the 
favorites,  easily  read  by  children  from  eight  to 
ten  years  of  age. 

I  believe,  also,  that  children  can  best  learn  to 
read  by  reading  what  is  best  in  literature. 

This  little  volume,  then,  is  the  result  of  re- 
peated tests  with  children  of  various  ability  in 
the  reading  of  Stockton's  stories.  The  results 
proved  that  the  language  is  simple  and  child- 
like, the  thought  natural,  and  the  story  itself 
intensely  interesting. 

Notes  and  suggestive  questions  for  each 
story,  except  "  The  Christmas  Truants,"  which 
is  so  simple  that  it  does  not  seem  to  need  them, 
are  given  at  the  end  of  the  book.  These,  it  is 
believed,  will  be  found  helpful  to  the  teacher 
and  pupil  and  aid  in  securing  the  best  results. 

Julia  Elizabeth  Langworthy. 


CONTENTS 


PAGE 

Old  Pipes  and  the  Dryad, i 

The  Bee-man  of  Orn,      .        .        .        .       •        .        .32 

The  Clocks  of  Rondaine,  .        .       .    52 

The  Griffin  and  the  Minor  Canon,     .        •       ,        .81 
The  Christmas  Truants,         ,  M       .  108 


LIST  OF  ILLUSTRATIONS 


FACING. 
PAGE 


"SO    MANY    THINGS    STOP    AT    NIGHT — SUCH    AS    THE    DAY 
ITSELF — THAT   I   THINK    YOU    OUGHT     TO    PARDON    MY 
POOR  CLOCK,"        .....        Frontispiece. 
A  Beautiful  Dryad  stepped  quickly  out,  i 

arla  and  the  sacristan, 52 

They  were  marched  away  to  the  Robber's  Castle,  .  108 


INTRODUCTION 

Joy  as  a  factor  in  education  is  too  apt  to  be 
ignored.  Feeling  and  pleasure  are  too  often 
counted  out  as  not  being  related  to  the  needs 
of  the  child.  Good  -  natured  merriment  is 
hushed.  School  is  invested  with  a  school- 
consciousness,  an  insupportable  dryness  and 
solemnity  which  precludes  the  spontaneous 
laughter  of  a  normal  growth.  Discipline  is 
enforced  by  direct  didactic  teaching  or  through 
sarcasm  rather  than  encouraged  by  the  fun 
which  has  no  sting  in  it 

There  is  no  writer  before  the  public  who  har 
added  more  to  the  wholesome  humor  of  the 
age  than  Mr.  Stockton — no  writer  whose  stories 
are  so  full  of  pure  wit,  entirely  free  from  poi- 
son, and  pointing  to  healthy,  happy  action* 
while  probing  false  sentiment.  What  child 
could  fail  to  raise  his  own  standard  and  guard 
himself  against  egotism  after  following  Aria 
through  her  trials  in  attempting  to  regulate 
the  Clocks  of  Rondaine  ?     What  boy  could  fail 


xii  Introduction 

to  appreciate  the  sweetness  and  quiet  in  the 
character  of  the  Minor  Canon  ? 

Every  school  would  be  the  better  for  such 
reading.  The  notes  from  the  pipes  of  "  Old 
Pipes "  come  floating  down  to  me  from  the 
happy  reading  lessons  of  years  ago,  when  my 
own  pupils  loved  to  read  the  story.  What  a 
happy  mood  it  threw  over  the  school-room ! 
It  is  the  realization  of  a  long  hope  that  one  of 
my  pupils  has  selected  this  story  as  one  that 
ought  to  come  into  an  inexpensive  school-book 
where  children  in  general  may  enjoy  it.  And 
why  should  not  children  have  such  reading, 
and  have  it  related  to  school  work?  Why 
should  the  librarian  at  the  public  library  be  the 
real  teacher  of  reading,  the  one  to  whom  chil- 
dren go  to  get  what  they  like  and  want  ?  Why 
should  the  public  library  instead  of  the  school- 
room be  the  literary  resort  for  children  ?  Why 
should  not  the  children,  who  form  the  best  part 
of  the  "  reading  public,"  be  in  intimate  relation 
to  the  literary  life  of  their  land  ?  Why  should 
they  not  get  at  the  man  who  sings  out  of  his 
heart  because  he  has  something  to  sing?  What 
would  it  mean  to  the  children  of  the  United 
States  if  all  the  reading-books  gotten  up  for 
commercial  purposes  were  swept  out  of  exist- 
ence and  the   works   of  good  writers  substi- 


Introduction  xiii 

tuted?  What  would  it  mean  to  the  public? 
What,  to  teachers,  authors,  publishers?  To 
the  child  it  would  mean  stores  and  stores  of 
knowledge,  contact  with  the  best  life  agoing, 
the  conservation  of  his  youth,  economy  of  his 
time.  To  the  public  it  would  mean  a  more  in- 
telligent citizenship,  a  happier  people,  the  rais- 
ing of  the  general  taste.  To  the  teacher  it 
would  mean  relief  from  the  drudgery  of  trying 
to  make  something  seem  good  and  interesting 
that  is  often  poor  and  inane.  To  the  author  it 
would  mean  an  audience  of  thousands  where 
he  is  now  heard  by  one.  To  the  publisher  it 
would  mean  the  delight  of  knowing  himself  to 
be  patriotically  related  to  the  public. 

Success  to  the  little  book,  "  Fanciful  Tales  "  2 
May  it  be  followed  by  companions  from  the 
best  authors  of  the  country,  until  there  is  a 
complete  set  of  "  reading-books,"  and  the  liter- 
ary life  ol  the  land  is  the  common  condition  of 
j^eople,  and  our  best  writers  are  as  well  known 
1o  the  millions  as  they  are  now  to  the  few 
I  housands  who  form  the  reading  public. 

Mary  E.  Burt, 

Vhe  Vines,  Holbrook,  I*  L,, 
July  5,  1894. 


i 


'/ 


A   BEAUTIFUL  DRYAD   STEPPED  QUICKLY   GUT. 


FANCIFUL  TALES 


OLD   PIPES  AND  THE  DRYAD^ 

A  mountain  brook  ran  through  a  little  vil- 
lage. Over  the  brook  there  was  a  narrow- 
bridge,  and  from  the  bridge  a  foot-path  led 
out  from  the  village  and  up  the  hill-side,  to 
the  cottage  of  Old  Pipes  and  his  mother. 

For  many,  many  years  Old  Pipes  had  been 
employed  by  the  villagers  to  pipe  the  cattle 
down  from  the  hills.  Every  afternoon,  an  hour 
before  sunset,  he  would  sit  on  a  rock  in  front 
of  his  cottage  and  play  on  his  pipes.  Then 
all  the  flocks  and  herds  that  were  grazing  on 
the  mountains  would  hear  him,  wherever  they 
might  happen  to  be,  and  would  come  down  to  the 
village — the  cows  by  the  easiest  paths,  the  sheep 
by  those  not  quite  so  easy,  and  the  goats  by  the 
steep  and  rocky  ways  that  were  hardest  of  all. 

But  now,  for  a  year  or  more,  Old  Pipes  had 
not  piped  the  cattle  home.  It  is  true  that 
every  afternoon  he  sat  upon  the  rock  and 
played  upon  his  pipes ;  but  the  cattle  did  not 


2  Fanciful  Tales 

hear  him.  He  had  grown  old,  and  his  breath 
was  feeble.  The  echoes  of  his  cheerful  notes, 
which  used  to  come  from  e  rocky  hill  on  the 
otner  side  of  the  valley,  were  heard  no  more ; 
and  twenty  yards  from  Old  Pipes  one  could 
scarcely  tell  what  tune  he  was  playing.  He 
had  become  somewhat  deaf,  and  did  not  know 
that  the  sound  of  his  pipes  was  so  thin  and 
weak,  and  that  the  cattle  did  not  hear  him. 
The  cows,  the  sheep,  and  the  goats  came  down 
every  afternoon  as  before  ;  but  this  was  because 
two  boys  and  a  girl  were  sent  up  after  them. 
The  villagers  did  not  wish  the  good  old  man  to 
know  that  his  piping  was  no  longer  of  any  use ; 
so  they  paid  him  his  little  salary  every  month, 
and  said  nothing  about  the  two  boys  and  the 
girl. 

Old  Pipes's  mother  was,  of  course,  a  great 
deal  older  than  he  was,  and  was  as  deaf  as  a 
gate — posts,  latch,  hinges,  and  all — and  she 
never  knew  that  the  sound  of  her  son's  pipe 
did  not  spread  over  all  the  mountain-side  and 
echo  back  strong  and  clear  from  the  opposite 
hills.  She  was  very  fond  of  Old  Pipes,  and 
proud  of  his  piping ;  and  as  he  was  so  much 
younger  than  she  was,  she  never  thought  of 
him  as  being  very  old.  She  cooked  for  him, 
and  made  his  bed,  and  mended  his  clothes; 


Old  Pipes  and  the  Dryad  3 

and  they  lived  very  comfortably  on  his  littte 
salary. 

One  afternoon,  at  the  end  of  the  month, 
when  Old  Pipes  had  finished  his  piping,  he  took 
his  stout  staff  and  went  down  the  hill  to  the 
village  to  receive  the  money  for  his  month's 
work.  The  path  seemed  a  great  deal  steeper 
and  more  difficult  than  it  used  to  be  ;  and  Old 
Pipes  thought  that  it  must  have  been  washed 
by  the  rains  and  greatly  damaged.  He  re- 
membered it  as  a  path  that  was  quite  easy  to 
traverse  either  up  or  down.  But  Old  Pipes 
had  been  a  very  active  man,  and  as  his  mother 
was  so  much  older  than  he  was,  he  never 
thought  of  himself  as  aged  and  infirm. 

When  the  Chief  Villager  had  paid  him,  and 
he  had  talked  a  little  with  some  of  his  friends, 
Old  Pipes  started  to  go  home.  But  when  he 
had  crossed  the  bridge  over  the  brook,  ana 
gone  a  short  distance  up  the  hill-side,  he  became 
very  tired,  and  sat  down  upon  a  stone.  He 
had  not  been  sitting  there  half  a  minute,  when 
along  came  two  boys  and  a  girl. 

"Children,"  said  Old  Pipes,  "  I'm  very  tired 
to-night,  and  I  don't  believe  I  can  climb  up  this 
steep  path  to  my  home.  I  think  I  shall  have  to 
ask  you  to  help  me." 

"We   will  do  that,"  said  the  boys  and  the 


4  Fanciful  Tales 

girl,  quite  cheerfully ;  and  one  boy  took  him 
by  the  right  hand  and  the  other  by  the  left, 
while  the  girl  pushed  him  in  the  back.  In  this 
way  he  went  up  the  hill  quite  easily,  and  soon 
reached  his  cottage  door.  Old  Pipes  gave 
each  of  the  three  children  a  copper  coin,  and 
then  they  sat  down  for  a  few  minutes*  rest  be- 
fore starting  back  to  the  village. 

"  I'm  sorry  that  I  tired  you  so  much,"  said 
Old  Pipes. 

"  Oh,  that  would  not  have  tired  us/'  said  one 
of  the  boys,  "  if  we  had  not  been  so  far  to-dap 
after  the  cows,  the  sheep,  and  the  goats.  They 
rambled  high  up  on  the  mountain,  and  we  never 
before  had  such  a  time  in  finding  them." 

"  Had  to  go  after  the  cows,  the  sheep,  and 
the  goats  !  "  exclaimed  Old  Pipes.  "  What  do 
you  mean  by  that  ?  " 

The  girl,  who  stood  behind  the  old  man, 
shook  her  head,  put  her  hand  on  her  mouth, 
and  made  all  sorts  of  signs  to  the  boy  to  stop 
talking  on  this  subject ;  but  he  did  not  notice 
her,  and  promptly  answered  Old  Pipes. 

"  Why,  you  see,  good  sir,"  said  he,  "  that  as 
the  cattle  can't  hear  your  pipes  now,  some- 
body has  to  go  after  them  every  evening  to 
drive  them  down  from  the  mountain,  and  the 
Chief  Villager  has  hired   us  three  to  do  it. 


Old  Pipes  and  the  Dryad  5 

Generally   it  is   not  very   hard   work,  but  to- 
night the  cattle  had  wandered  far." 

"  How  long  have  you  been  doing  this  ? " 
asked  the  old  man. 

The  girl  shook  her  head  and  clapped  her  hand 
on  her  mouth  as  before,  but  the  boy  went  on. 

"  I  think  it  is  about  a  year  now,"  he  said> 
"  since  the  people  first  felt  sure  that  the  cattle 
could  not  hear  your  pipes  ;  and  from  that  time 
we've  been  driving  them  down.  But  we  are 
rested  now,  and  will  go  home.  Good -night, 
sir." 

The  three  children  then  went  down  the  hill, 
the  girl  scolding  the  boy  all  the  way  homec 
Old  Pipes  stood  silent  a  few  moments,  and  then 
he  went  into  his  cottage. 

"  Mother,"  he  shouted,  "  did  you  hear  what 
those  children  said  ?  " 

"  Children !  "  exclaimed  the  old  woman ;  "  I 
did  not  hear  them.  I  did  not  know  there  were 
any  children  here." 

Then  Old  Pipes  told  his  mother — shouting 
very  loudly  to  make  her  hear — how  the  two 
boys  and  the  girl  had  helped  him  up  the  hill, 
and  what  he  had  heard  about  his  piping  and 
the  cattle. 

"  They  can't  hear  you  ? "  cried  his  mother. 
m  Why,  what's  the  matter  with  the  cattle  ?  " 


6  Fanciful  Tales 

f  Ah,  me ! "  said  Old  Pipes ;  "  I  don't  believe 
t  there's  anything  the  matter  with  the  cattle. 
It  must  be  with  me  and  my  pipes  that  there 
is  something  the  matter.  But  one  thing  is 
certain :  if  I  do  not  earn  the  wages  the  Chief 
Villager  pays  me,  I  shall  not  take  them.  I 
shall  go  straight  down  to  the  village  and  give 
back  the  money  I  received  to-day." 

"  Nonsense !  "  cried  his  mother.  "  I'm  sure 
you've  piped  as  well  as  you  could,  and  no  more 
can  be  expected.  And  what  are  we  to  do  with- 
out the  money  ?  " 

"  I  don't  know/'  said  Old  Pipes ;  "  but  I'm 
going  down  to  the  village  to  pay  it  back." 

The  sun  had  now  set;  but  the  moon  was 
shining  very  brightly  on  the  hill-side,  and  Old 
Pipes  could  see  his  way  very  well.  He  did 
not  take  the  same  path  by  which  he  had  gone 
before,  but  followed  another,  which  led  among 
the  trees  upon  the  hill-side,  and,  though  long- 
er, was  not  so  steep. 

When  he  had  gone  about  half-way,  the  old 
man  sat  down  to  rest,  leaning  his  back  against 
a  great  oak  tree.  As  he  did  so,  he  heard  a 
sound  like  knocking  inside  the  tree,  and  then 
a  voice  said : 

"  Let  me  out !  let  me  out ! " 

Old    Pipes    instantly    forgot    that    he    was 


Old  Pipes  and  the  Dryad  J 

tired,  and  sprang  to  his  feet.  "  This  must  be  a 
Dryad  tree  !  "  he  exclaimed.  "  If  it  is,  I'll  let 
her  out." 

Old  Pipes  had  never,  to  his  knowledge,  seen 
a  Dryad  tree,  but  he  knew  there  were  such 
trees  on  the  hill-sides  and  the  mountains,  and 
that  Dryads  lived  in  them.  He  knew,  too,  that 
in  the  summer-time,  on  those  days  when  the 
moon  rose  before  the  sun  went  down,  a  Dryad 
could  come  out  of  her  tree  if  any  one  could 
find  the  key  which  locked  her  in,  and  turn  it. 
Old  Pipes  closely  examined  the  trunk  of  the 
tree,  which  stood  in  the  full  moonlight.  "  It 
I  see  that  key,"  he  said,  "  I  shall  surely  turn 
it."  Before  long  he  found  a  piece  of  bark 
standing  out  from  the  tree,  which  looked  to 
him  very  much  like  the  handle  of  a  key.  He 
took  hold  of  it,  and  found  he  could  turn  it 
quite  around.  As  he  did  so,  a  large  part  of 
the  side  of  the  tree  was  pushed  open,  and  a 
beautiful  Dryad  stepped  quickly  out. 

For  a  moment  she  stood  motionless,  gazing 
on  the  scene  before  her — the  tranquil  valley, 
the  hills,  the  forest,  and  the  mountain-side,  all 
lying  in  the  soft  clear  light  of  the  moon.  "  Oh, 
lovely  !  lovely ! "  she  exclaimed.  "  How  long 
it  is  since  I  have  seen  anything  like  this ! " 
And  then,   turning    to   Old   Pipes,   she   said: 


8  Fanciful  Tales 

"  How  good  of  you  to  let  me  out !  I  am  so 
happy,  and  so  thankful,  that  I  must  kiss  you, 
you  dear  old  man  ! "  And  she  threw  her  arms 
around  the  neck  of  Old  Pipes,  and  kissed  him 
on  both  cheeks. 

"  You  don't  know,"  she  then  went  on  to  say, 
"  how  doleful  it  is  to  be  shut  up  so  long  in  a  tree. 
I  don't  mind  it  in  the  winter,  for  then  I  am  glad 
to  be  sheltered,  but  in  summer  it  is  a  rueful 
thing  not  to  be  able  to  see  all  the  beauties  of 
the  world.  And  it's  ever  so  long  since  I've 
been  let  out.  People  so  seldom  come  this  way  ; 
and  when  they  do  come  at  the  right  time,  they 
either  don't  hear  me  or  they  are  frightened 
and  run  away.  But  you,  you  dear  old  man, 
jou  were  not  frightened,  and  you  looked  and 
looked  for  the  key,  and  you  let  me  out ;  and 
now  I  shall  not  have  to  go  back  till  winter  has 
come,  and  the  air  grows  cold.  Oh,  it  is  glorious  ! 
What  can  I  do  for  you,  to  show  you  how 
grateful  lam?" 

"  I  am  very  glad,"  said  Ola  Pipes,  "that  I  let 
you  out,  since  I  see  that  it  makes  you  so  happy ; 
but  I  must  admit  that  I  tried  to  find  the  key 
because  I  had  a  great  desire  to  see  a  Dryad. 
But,  if  you  wish  to  do  something  for  me,  you 
can,  if  you.  happen  to  be  going  down  toward 
the  village." 


Old  Pipes  and  the  Dryad  q 

"  To  the  village  !  "  exclaimed  the  Dryad.  "  I 
will  go  anywhere  for  you,  my  kind  old  bene- 
factor." 

"  Well,  then,"  said  Old  Pipes,  "  I  wish  you 
would  take  this  little  bag  of  money  to  the  Chief 
Villager  and  tell  him  that  Old  Pipes  cannot 
receive  pay  for  the  services  which  he  does  not 
perform.  It  is  now  more  than  a  year  that  I  have 
not  been  able  to  make  the  cattle  hear  me,  when 
I  piped  to  call  them  home.  I  did  not  know  this 
until  to-night ;  but  now  that  I  know  it,  I  cannot 
keep  the  money,  and  so  I  send  it  back."  And, 
handing  the  little  bag  to  the  Dryad,  he  bade  her 
good-night,  and  turned  toward  his  cottage. 

"Good-night,"  said  the  Dryad.  "And  I 
thank  you  over,  and  over,  and  over  again,  you 
good  old  man ! " 

Old  Pipes  walked  toward  his  home,  very 
glad  to  be  saved  the  fatigue  of  going  all  the 
way  down  to  the  village  and  back  again.  "  To 
be  sure,"  he  said  to  himself,  "  this  path  does 
not  seem  at  all  steep,  and  I  can  walk  along  it 
very  easily ;  but  it  would  have  tired  me  dread' 
fully  to  come  up  all  the  way  from  the  village, 
especially  as  I  could  not  have  expected  those 
children  to  help  me  again."  When  he  reached 
home  his  mother  was  surprised  to  see  him  re- 
turning  so  soon. 


iO  Fanciful  Tales 

"  What ! "  she  exclaimed  ;  "  have  you  already- 
come  back  ?  What  did  the  Chief  Villager  say.' 
Did  he  take  the  money  ?  " 

Old  Pipes  was  just  about  to  tell  her  that  hu 
had  sent  the  money  to  the  village  by  a  Dryad, 
when  he  suddenly  reflected  that  his  mother 
would  be  sure  to  disapprove  such  a  proceed- 
ing, and  so  he  merely  said  he  had  sent  it  by 
a  person  whom  he  had  met. 

"  And  how  do  you  know  that  the  person  will 
ever  take  it  to  the  Chief  Villager  ? "  cried  his 
mother.  "  You  will  lose  it,  and  the  villagers 
will  never  get  it.  Oh,  Pipes !  Pipes !  when 
will  you  be  old  enough  to  have  ordinary  com- 
mon-sense ?  " 

Old  Pipes  considered  that,  as  he  was  already 
seventy  years  of  age,  he  could  scarcely  expect 
to  grow  any  wiser;  but  he  made  no  remark 
on  this  subject,  and,  saying  that  he  doubted 
not  that  the  money  would  go  safely  to  its  des- 
tination, he  sat  down  to  his  supper.  His  mother 
scolded  him  roundly,  but  he  did  not  mind  it; 
and  after  supper  he  went  out  and  sat  on  a  rus- 
tic chair  in  front  of  the  cottage  ic  look  at  the 
moonlit  village,  and  to  wonder  whether  or  not 
the  Chief  Villager  really  received  the  money. 
While  he  was  doing  these  two  things,  he  went 
fast  asleep. 


Old  Pipes  and  the  Dryad  II 

When  Old  Pipes  left  the  Dryad,  she  did  not 
go  down  to  the  village  with  the  little  bag  of 
money.  She  held  it  in  her  hand,  and  thought 
about  what  she  had  heard.  "  This  is  a  good 
and  honest  old  man,"  she  said  ;  "  and  it  is  a 
shame  that  he  should  lose  this  money.  He 
looked  as  if  he  needed  it,  and  I  don't  believe 
the  people  in  the  village  will  take  it  from  one 
who  has  served  them  so  long.  Often,  when  in 
my  tree,  have  I  heard  the  sweet  notes  of  his 
pipes.  I  am  going  to  take  the  money  back  to 
him."  She  did  not  start  immediately,  because 
there  were  so  many  beautiful  things  to  loot 
at;  but  after  awhile  she  went  up  to  the  cot- 
tage, and,  finding  Old  Pipes  asleep  in  his  chair, 
she  slipped  the  little  bag  into  his  coat-pocket, 
and  silently  sped  away. 

The  next  day  Old  Pipes  tola  his  mother  that 
he  would  go  up  the  mountain  and  cut  some 
wood.  He  had  a  right  to  get  wood  from  the 
mountain,  but  for  a  long  time  he  had  been  con- 
tent to  pick  up  the  dead  branches  which  lay 
about  his  cottage.  To-day,  however,  he  felt  so 
strong  and  vigorous  that  he  thought  he  would 
go  and  cut  some  fuel  that  would  be  better  than 
this.  He  worked  all  the  morning,  and  when 
he  came  back  he  did  not  feel  at  all  tired,  and 
he  had  a  very  good  appetite  for  his  dinner. 


12  Fanciful  Tales 

Now,  Old  Pipes  knew  a  good  deal  about 
Dryads ;  but  there  was  one  thing  which,  al- 
though he  had  heard,  he  had  forgotten.  This 
was,  that  a  kiss  from  a  Dryad  made  a  person 
ten  years  younger. 

The  people  of  the  village  knew  this,  and  they 
were  very  careful  not  to  let  any  child  of  ten 
years  or  younger  go  into  the  woods  where 
the  Dryads  were  supposed  to  be ;  for,  if  they 
should  chance  to  be  kissed  by  one  of  these 
tree -nymphs,  they  would  be  set  back  so  far 
that  they  would  cease  to  exist. 

A  story  was  told  in  the  village  that  a  very 
bad  boy  of  eleven  once  ran  away  into  the  woods, 
and  had  an  adventure  of  this  kind ;  and  when 
his  mother  found  him  he  was  a  little  baby  of 
one  year  old.  Taking  advantage  of  her  op- 
portunity, she  brought  him  up  more  carefully 
than  she  had  done  before,  and  he  grew  to  be  a 
very  good  boy  indeed. 

Now  Old  Pipes  had  been  kissed  twice  by  the 
Dryad,  once  on  each  cheek,  and  he  therefore 
felt  as  vigorous  and  active  as  when  he  was  a 
hale  man  of  fifty.  His  mother  noticed  how 
much  work  he  was  doing,  and  told  him  that  he 
need  not  try  in  that  way  to  make  up  for  the 
loss  of  his  piping  wages;  for  he  would  only 
tire  himself  out,  and  get  sick.     But  her  son 


Old  Pipes  and  the  Dryad  13 

answered  that  he  had  not  felt  so  well  for  years, 
and  that  he  was  quite  able  to  work. 

In  the  course  of  the  afternoon,  Old  Pipes,  for 
the  first  time  that  day,  put  his  hand  in  his  coat- 
pocket,  and  there,  to  his  amazement,  he  found 
the  little  bag  of  money.  "  Well,  well !  "  he  ex- 
claimed, "  I  am  stupid,  indeed !  I  really 
thought  that  I  had  seen  a  Dryad  ;  but  when  I 
sat  down  by  that  big  oak  tree  I  must  have  gone 
to  sleep  and  dreamed  it  all ;  and  then  I  came 
home,  thinking  I  had  given  the  money  to  a 
Dryad,  when  it  was  in  my  pocket  all  the  time. 
But  the  Chief  Villager  shall  have  the  money.  I 
shall  not  take  it  to  him  to-day,  but  to-morrow  I 
wish  to  go  to  the  village  to  see  some  of  my  old 
friends ;  and  then  I  shall  give  up  the  money." 

Toward  the  close  of  the  afternoon,  Old  Pipes, 
as  had  been  his  custom  for  so  many  years,  took 
his  pipes  from  the  shelf  on  which  they  lay,  and 
went  out  to  the  rock  in  front  of  the  cottage. 

"  What  are  you  going  to  do  ? "  cried  his 
mother.  *'  If  you  will  not  consent  to  be  paid, 
why  do  you  pipe  ?  " 

"  I  am  going  to  pipe  for  my  own  pleasure," 
said  her  son.  "  I  am  used  to  it,  and  I  do  not 
wish  to  give  it  up.  It  does  not  matter  now 
whether  the  cattle  hear  me  or  not,  and  I  am 
sure  that  my  piping  will  injure  no  one." 


14  Fanciful  Tales 

When  the  good  man  began  to  play  upon  his 
favorite  instrument  he  was  astonished  at  the 
sound  that  came  from  it.  The  beautiful  notes 
of  the  pipes  sounded  clear  and  strong  down  into 
the  valley,  and  spread  over  the  hills,  and  up  the 
sides  of  the  mountain  beyond,  while,  after  a 
little  interval,  an  echo  came  back  from  the 
rocky  hill  on  the  other  side  of  the  valley. 

"  Ha !  ha  !  "  he  cried,  "  what  has  happened  to 
my  pipes  ?  They  must  have  been  stopped  up 
of  late,  but  now  they  are  as  clear  and  good  as 
ever." 

Again  the  merry  notes  went  sounding  far  and 
wide.  The  cattle  on  the  mountain  heard  them, 
and  those  that  were  old  enough  remembered 
how  these  notes  had  called  them  from  their 
pastures  every  evening,  and  so  they  started 
down  the  mountain-side,  the  others  following. 

The  merry  notes  were  heard  in  the  village 
below,  and  the  people  were  much  astonished 
thereby.  "  Why,  who  can  be  blowing  the  pipes 
of  Old  Pipes  ?  "  they  said.  But,  as  they  were 
all  very  busy,  no  one  went  up  to  see.  One 
thing,  however,  was  plain  enough  :  the  cattle 
were  coming  down  the  mountain.  And  so  the 
two  boys  and  the  girl  did  not  have  to  go  after 
them,  and  had  an  hour  for  play,  for  which  they 
were  very  glad. 


Old  Pipes  and  the  Dryad  15 

The  next  morning  Old  Pipes  started  down 
to  the  village  with  his  money,  and  on  the  way 
he  met  the  Dryad.  "  Oh,  ho  ! "  he  cried,  "  is 
that  you?  Why,  I  thought  my  letting  you 
out  of  the  tree  was  nothing  but  a  dream." 

"A  dream  !  "  cried  the  Dryad  ;  "  if  you  only 
knew  how  happy  you  have  made  me,  you  would 
not  think  it  merely  a  dream.  And  has  it  not 
benefited  you?  Do  you  not  feel  happier? 
Yesterday  I  heard  you  playing  beautifully  on 
your  pipes." 

"  Yes,  yes,"  cried  he.  "  I  did  not  understand 
it  before,  but  I  see  it  all  now.  I  have  really 
grown  younger.  I  thank  you,  I  thank  you, 
good  Dryad,  from  the  bottom  of  my  heart.  It 
was  the  finding  of  the  money  in  my  pocket  that 
made  me  think  it  was  a  dream." 

"  Oh,  I  put  it  in  when  you  were  asleep,"  she 
said,  laughing,  "  because  I  thought  you  ought 
to  keep  it.  Good-by,  kind,  honest  man.  May 
you  live  long,  and  be  as  happy  as  I  am  now." 

Old  Pipes  was  greatly  delighted  when  he 
understood  that  he  was  really  a  younger  man ; 
but  that  made  no  difference  about  the  money, 
and  he  kept  on  his  way  to  the  village.  As  soon 
as  he  reached  it,  he  was  eagerly  questioned  as 
to  who  had  been  playing  his  pipes  the  evening 
before,  and  when  the  people  heard  that  it  was 


1 6  Fanciful  Tales 

himself  they  were  very  much  surprised.  There* 
upon  Old  Pipes  told  what  had  happened  to  him, 
and  then  there  was  greater  wonder,  with  hearty 
congratulations  and  hand-shakes  ;  for  Old  Pipes 
was  liked  by  everyone.  The  Chief  Villager 
refused  to  take  his  money ;  and  although  Old 
Pipes  said  that  he  had  not  earned  it,  everyone 
present  insisted  that,  as  he  would  now  play  on 
his  pipes  as  before,  he  should  lose  nothing 
because,  for  a  time,  he  was  unable  to  perform 
his  duty. 

So  Old  Pipes  was  obliged  to  keep  his  money, 
and  after  an  hour  or  two  spent  in  conversation 
with  his  friends  he  returned  to  his  cottage. 

There  was  one  person,  however,  who  was  not 
pleased  with  what  had  happened  to  Old  Pipes. 
This  was  an  Echo-dwarf  who  lived  on  the  hills 
across  the  valley.  It  was  his  work  to  echo 
back  the  notes  of  the  pipes  whenever  they 
could  be  heard. 

A  great  many  other  Echo-dwarfs  lived  on 
these  hills.  They  all  worked,  but  in  different 
ways.  Some  echoed  back  the  songs  of  maidens, 
some  the  shouts  of  children,  and  others  the 
music  that  was  often  heard  in  the  village.  But 
there  was  only  one  who  could  send  back  the 
strong  notes  of  the  pipes  of  Old  Pipes,  and  this 
had  been  his   sole  duty  for  many  years.     But 


Old  Pipes  and  the  Dryad  \*j 

when  the  old  man  grew  feeble,  and  the  notes  of 
his  pipes  could  not  be  heard  on  the  opposite 
hills,  this  Echo-dwarf  had  nothing  to  do,  and  he 
spent  his  time  in  delightful  idleness;  and  he 
slept  so  much  and  grew  so  fat  that  it  made  his 
companions  laugh  to  see  him  walk. 

On  the  afternoon  on  which,  after  so  long  an  in- 
terval, the  sound  of  the  pipes  was  heard  on  the 
echo  hills,  this  dwarf  was  fast  asleep  behind  a 
rock.  As  soon  as  the  first  notes  reached  them, 
some  of  his  companions  ran  to  wake  him  up. 
Rolling  to  his  feet,  he  echoed  back  the  merrj* 
tune  of  Old  Pipes. 

Naturally,  he  was  very  angry  at  being  thus 
obliged  to  give  up  his  life  of  comfort,  and  he 
hoped  very  much  that  this  pipe-playing  would 
not  occur  again.  The  next  afternoon  he  was 
awake  and  listening,  and,  sure  enough,  at  the 
usual  hour,  along  came  the  notes  of  the  pipes 
as  clear  and  strong  as  they  ever  had  been ;  and 
he  was  obliged  to  work  as  long  as  Old  Pipes 
played.  The  Echo-dwarf  was  very  angry.  He 
had  supposed,  of  course,  that  the  pipe-playing 
had  ceased  forever,  and  he  felt  that  he  had  a 
right  to  be  indignant  at  being  thus  deceived. 
He  was  so  much  disturbed  that  he  made  up  his 
mind  to  go  and  try  to  find  out  how  long  this 
was  to   last.     He  had  plenty  of  time,  as  the 

2 


1 8  Fanciful  Tales 

pipes  were  played  but  once  a  day,  and  he  set 
off  early  in  the  morning  for  the  hill  on  which 
Old  Pipes  lived.  It  was  hard  work  for  the  fat 
little  fellow,  and  when  he  had  crossed  the  valley 
and  had  gone  some  distance  into  the  woods  on 
the  hill-side,  he  stopped  to  rest,  and  in  a  few 
minutes  the  Dryad  came  tripping  along. 

"  Ho,  ho !  "  exclaimed  the  dwarf ;  "  what  are 
you  doing  here  ?  and  how  did  you  get  out  of 
your  tree  ?  " 

"  Doing  ! "  cried  the  Dryad ;  "  I  am  being 
happy ;  that's  what  I  am  doing.  And  I  was  let 
out  of  my  tree  by  the  good  old  man  who  plays 
the  pipes  to  call  the  cattle  down  from  the 
mountain.  And  it  makes  me  happier  to  think 
that  I  have  been  of  service  to  him.  I  gave  him 
two  kisses  of  gratitude,  and  now  he  is  young 
enough  to  play  his  pipes  as  well  as  ever." 

The  Echo-dwarf  stepped  forward,  his  face 
pale  with  passion,  "  Am  I  to  believe,"  he  said, 
"  that  you  are  the  cause  of  this  great  evil  that 
has  come  upon  me?  and  that  you  are  the 
wicked  creature  who  has  again  started  this  old 
man  upon  his  career  of  pipe-playing?  What 
have  I  ever  done  to  you  that  you  should  have 
condemned  me  for  years  and  years  to  echo 
back  the  notes  of  those  wretched  pipes  ?  " 

At  this  the  Dryad  laughed  loudly. 


Old  Pipes  and  the  Dryad  19 

u  What  a  funny  little  fellow  you  are ! "  she 
said.  "  Anyone  would  think  you  had  been 
condemned  to  toil  from  morning  till  night; 
while  what  you  really  have  to  do  is  merely  to 
imitate  for  half  an  hour  every  day  the  merry 
notes  of  Old  Pipes's  piping.  Fie  upon  you, 
Echo-dwarf !  You  are  lazy  and  selfish ;  and 
that  is  what  is  the  matter  with  you.  Instead  of 
grumbling  at  being  obliged  to  do  a  little  whole- 
some work,  which  is  less,  I  am  sure,  than  that 
of  any  other  echo-dwarf  upon  the  rocky  hill- 
side, you  should  rejoice  at  the  good  fortune  of 
the  old  man  who  has  regained  so  much  of  his 
strength  and  vigor.  Go  home  and  learn  to  be 
just  and  generous  ;  and  then,  perhaps,  you  may 
be  happy.     Good-by." 

"  Insolent  creature !  "  shouted  the  dwarf,  as 
he  shook  his  fat  little  fist  at  her.  "  I'll  make 
you  suffer  for  this.  You  shall  find  out  what  it 
is  to  heap  injury  and  insult  upon  one  like  me, 
and  to  snatch  from  him  the  repose  that  he  has 
earned  by  long  years  of  toil."  And,  shaking 
his  head  savagely,  he  hurried  back  to  the  rocky 
hill-side. 

Every  afternoon  the  merry  notes  of  the  pipes 
of  Old  Pipes  sounded  down  into  the  valley  and 
over  the  hills  and  up  the  mountain-side;  and 
every   afternoon  when  he  had    echoed   them 


20  fanciful  lales 

back,  the  little  dwarf  grew  more  and  more 
angry  with  the  Dryad.  Each  day,  from  early 
morning  till  it  was  time  for  him  to  go  back  to 
his  duties  upon  the  rocky  hill-side,  he  searched 
the  woods  for  her.  He  intended,  if  he  met  her, 
to  pretend  to  be  very  sorry  for  what  he  had 
said,  and  he  thought  he  might  be  able  to  play 
a  trick  upon  her  which  would  avenge  him  well. 

One  day,  while  thus  wandering  among  the 
trees,  he  met  Old  Pipes.  The  Echo-dwarf  did 
not  generally  care  to  see  or  speak  to  ordinary 
people ;  but  now  he  was  so  anxious  to  find  the 
object  of  his  search,  that  he  stopped  and  asked 
Old  Pipes  if  he  had  seen  the  Dryad.  The  piper 
had  not  noticed  the  little  fellow,  and  he  looked 
down  on  him  with  some  surprise. 

"  No,"  he  said  ;  "  I  have  not  seen  her,  and  I 
have  been  looking  everywhere  for  her." 

"  You  ! "  cried  the  dwarf,  "  what  do  you  wish 
with  her  ?  " 

Old  Pipes  then  sat  down  on  a  stone,  so  that 
he  should  be  nearer  the  ear  of  his  small  com- 
panion, and  he  told  what  the  Dryad  had  done 
for  him. 

When  the  Echo-dwarf  heard  that  this  was  the 
man  whose  pipes  he  was  obliged  to  echo  back 
every  day,  he  would  have  slain  him  on  the  spot, 
had  he  been  able ;  but,  as  he  was  not  able,  he 


Old  Pipes  and  the  Dryad  21 

merely  ground  his  teeth  and  listened  to  the 
rest  of  the  story. 

"  I  am  looking  for  the  Dryad  now,"  Old 
Pipes  continued,  "on  account  of  my  aged 
mother.  When  I  was  old  myself,  I  did  not  no- 
tice how  very  old  my  mother  was ;  but  now  it 
shocks  me  to  see  how  feeble  her  years  have 
caused  her  to  become  ;  and  I  am  looking  for 
the  Dryad  to  ask  her  to  make  my  mother 
younger,  as  she  made  me." 

The  eyes  of  the  Echo-dwarf  glistened.  Here 
was  a  man  who  might  help  him  in  his  plans. 

"  Your  idea  is  a  good  one,"  he  said  to  Old 
Pipes,  "  and  it  does  you  honor.  But  you 
should  know  that  a  Dryad  can  make  no  person 
younger  but  one  who  lets  her  out  of  her  tree. 
However,  you  can  manage  the  affair  very 
easily.  All  you  need  do  is  to  find  the  Dryad, 
tell  her  what  you  want,  and  request  her  to  step 
into  her  tree  and  be  shut  up  for  a  short  time. 
Then  you  will  go  and  bring  your  mother  to 
the  tree  ;  she  will  open  it,  and  every  thing  will 
be  as  you  wish.     Is  not  this  a  good  plan  ?  " 

"  Excellent ! "  cried  Old  Pipes ;  "  and  I  will 
go  instantly  and  search  more  diligently  for  the 
Dryad." 

"  Take  me  with  you,"  said  the  Echo-dwarf. 
a  You   can   easily   carry   me   on    your  strong 


22  Fancifuc   Tales 

shoulders ;  and  I  shall  be  glad  to  help  you  in 
'any  way  that  I  can." 

"  Now  then,"  said  the  little  fellow  to  himself, 
as  Old  Pipes  carried  him  rapidly  along,  "  if  he 
persuades  the  Dryad  to  get  into  a  tree, — and 
she  is  quite  foolish  enough  to  do  it, — and  then 
goes  away  to  bring  his  mother,  I  shall  take  a 
stone  or  a  club  and  I  will  break  off  the  key  of 
that  tree,  so  that  nobody  can  ever  turn  it  again. 
Then  Mistress  Dryad  will  see  what  she  has 
brought  upon  herself  by  her  behavior  to  me." 

Before  long  they  came  to  the  great  oak-tree 
in  which  the  Dryad  had  lived,  and  at  a  dis- 
tance they  saw  that  beautiful  creature  herself 
coming  toward  them. 

"  How  excellently  well  everything  happens  ?  " 
said  the  dwarf.  "  Put  me  down,  and  I  will  go. 
Your  business  with  the  Dryad  is  more  impor- 
tant than  mine;  and  you  need  not  say  any- 
thing about  my  having  suggested  your  plan  to 
you.  I  am  willing  that  you  should  have  all  the 
credit  of  it  yourself." 

Old  Pipes  put  the  Echo -dwarf  upon  the 
ground,  but  the  little  rogue  did  not  go  away. 
He  hid  himself  between  some  low,  mossy  rocks, 
and  he  was  so  much  like  them  in  color  that  you 
would  not  have  noticed  him  if  you  had  been 
looking  straight  at  him. 


Old  Pipes  and  the  Dryad  23 

When  the  Dryad  came  up,  Old  Pipes  lost  no 
time  in  telling  her  about  his  mother,  and  what 
he  wished  her  to  do.  At  first,  the  Dryad  an- 
swered nothing,  but  stood  looking  very  sadly 
at  Old  Pipes. 

"  Do  you  really  wish  me  to  go  into  my  tree 
again?  "  she  said.  "  I  should  dreadfully  dislike 
to  do  it,  for  I  don't  know  what  might  happen. 
It  is  not  at  all  necessary,  for  I  could  make  your 
mother  younger  at  any  time  if  she  would  give 
me  the  opportunity.  I  had  already  thought 
of  making  you  still  happier  in  this  way,  and 
several  times  I  have  waited  about  your  cottage, 
hoping  to  meet  your  aged  mother,  but  she 
never  comes  outside,  and  you  know  a  Dryad 
cannot  enter  a  house.  I  cannot  imagine  what 
put  this  idea  into  your  head.  Did  you  think  of 
it  yourself  ?  " 

"  No,  I  cannot  say  that  I  did,"  answered  Old 
Pipes.  "A  little  dwarf  whom  I  met  in  the 
woods  proposed  it  to  me." 

"  Oh !  "  cried  the  Dryad  ;  "  now  I  see  through 
it  all.  It  is  the  scheme  of  that  vile  Echo-dwarf 
— your  enemy  and  mine.  Where  is  he?  I 
should  like  to  see  him." 

"  I  think  he  has  gone  away,"  said  Old  Pipes. 

"  No,  he  has  not,"  said  the  Dryad,  whose 
quick  eyes  perceived  the   Echo-dwarf  among 


24  Fanciful  Tales 

the  rocks,  "  There  he  is.  Seize  him  and  drag 
him  out,  I  beg  of  you." 

Old  Pipes  saw  the  dwarf  as  soon  as  he  was 
pointed  out  to  him  ;  and  running  to  the  rocks, 
he  caught  the  little  fellow  by  the  arm  and 
pulled  him  out. 

"  Now,  then,"  cried  the  Dryad,  who  had 
opened  the  door  of  the  great  oak,  "  just  stick 
him  in  there,  and  we  will  shut  him  up.  Then  I 
shall  be  safe  from  his  mischief  for  the  rest  of 
the  time  I  am  free." 

Old  Pipes  thrust  the  Echo -dwarf  into  the 
tree ;  the  Dryad  pushed  the  door  shut ;  there 
was  a  clicking  sound  of  bark  and  wood,  and  no 
one  would  have  noticed  that  the  big  oak  had 
ever  had  an  opening  in  it. 

"  There,"  said  the  Dryad ;  "  now  we  need 
not  be  afraid  of  him.  And  I  assure  you,  my 
good  piper,  that  I  shall  be  very  glad  to  make 
your  mother  younger  as  soon  as  I  can.  Will 
you  not  ask  her  to  come  out  and  meet  me  ?  " 

"  Of  course  I  will,"  cried  Old  Pipes  ;  "  and  I 
will  do  it  without  delay." 

And  then,  the  Dryad  by  his  side,  he  hurried 
to  his  cottage.  But  when  he  mentioned  the 
matter  to  his  mother,  the  old  woman  became 
very  angry  indeed.  She  did  not  believe  in 
Dryads  ;  and,  if  they  really  did  exist,  she  knew 


Old  Pipes  and  the  Dryad  25 

the>  mast  be  witches  and  sorceresses,  and  she 
would  have  nothing  to  do  with  them.  If  her 
son  had  ever  allowed  himself  to  be  kissed  by 
one  of  them,  he  ought  to  be  ashamed  of  him- 
self. As  to  its  doing  him  the  least  bit  of  good, 
she  did  not  believe  a  word  of  it.  He  felt  better 
than  he  used  to  feel,  but  that  was  very  common. 
She  had  sometimes  felt  that  way  herself,  and 
she  forbade  him  ever  to  mention  a  Dryad  to 
her  again* 

That  afternoon,  Old  Pipes,  feeling  very  sad 
that  his  plan  in  regard  to  his  mother  had  failed, 
sat  down  upon  the  rock  and  played  upon  his 
pipes.  The  pleasant  sounds  went  down  the 
valley  and  up  the  hills  and  mountain,  but,  to 
the  great  surprise  of  some  persons  who  hap- 
pened to  notice  the  fact,  the  notes  were  not 
echoed  back  from  the  rocky  hill-side,  but  from 
the  woods  on  the  side  of  the  valley  on  which 
Old  Pipes  lived.  The  next  day  many  ot  the 
villagers  stopped  in  their  work  to  listen  to  the 
echo  of  the  pipes  coming  from  the  woods.  The 
sound  was  not  as  clear  and  strong  as  it  used  to 
be  when  it  was  sent  back  from  the  rocky  hill- 
side, but  it  certainly  came  from  among  the  trees. 
Such  a  thing  as  an  echo  changing  its  place  in 
this  way  had  never  been  heard  of  before,  and 
nobody  was  able  to  explain  how  it  could  have 


26  Fanciful  Tales 

happened.  Old  Pipes,  however,  knew  very 
well  that  the  sound  came  from  the  Echo-dwarf 
shut  up  in  the  great  oak  tree.  The  sides  of  the 
tree  were  thin,  and  the  sound  of  the  pipes  could 
be  heard  through  them,  and  the  dwarf  was 
obliged  by  the  laws  of  his  being  to  echo  back 
those  notes  whenever  they  came  to  him.  But 
Old  Pipes  thought  he  might  get  the  Dryad  in 
trouble  if  he  let  anyone  know  that  the  Echo- 
dwarf  was  shut  up  in  the  tree,  and  so  he  wisely 
said  nothing  about  it. 

One  day  the  two  boys  and  the  girl  who  had 
helped  Old  Pipes  up  the  hill  were  playing  in 
the  woods.  Stopping  near  the  great  oak  tree, 
they  heard  a  sound  of  knocking  within  it,  and 
then  a  voice  plainly  said : 

"  Let  me  out !  let  me  out !  " 

For  a  moment  the  children  stood  still  in 
astonishment,  and  then  one  of  the  boys  ex- 
claimed : 

"  Oh,  it  is  a  Dryad,  like  the  one  Old  Pipes 
found  !     Let  s  let  her  out !  " 

"What  are  you  thinking  of?"  cried  the  girl. 
M  I  am  the  oldest  of  all,  and  I  am  only  thir- 
teen. Do  you  wish  to  be  turned  into  crawling 
babies  ?     Run !  run  !  run ! " 

And  the  two  boys  and  the  girl  dashed  down 
into  the  valley  as  fast  as  their  legs  could  carry 


Old  Pipes  and  the  Dryad  27 

them.  There  was  no  desire  in  their  youthful 
hearts  to  be  made  younger  than  they  were, 
and  for  fear  that  their  parents  might  think  it 
well  that  they  should  commence  their  careers 
anew,  they  never  said  a  word  about  finding  the 
Dryad  tree. 

As  the  summer  days  went  on,  Old  Pipes* 
mother  grew  feebler  and  feebler.  One  day 
when  her  son  was  away,  for  he  now  frequently 
went  into  the  woods  to  hunt  or  fish,  or  down 
into  the  valley  to  work,  she  arose  from  her  knit- 
ting to  prepare  the  simple  dinner.  But  she  felt 
so  weak  and  tired  that  she  was  not  able  to  do 
the  work  to  which  she  had  been  so  long  accus- 
tomed. "  Alas !  alas ! "  she  said,  "  the  time  has 
come  when  I  am  too  old  to  work.  My  son  will 
have  to  hire  some  one  to  come  here  and  cook 
his  meals,  make  his  bed,  and  mend  his  clothes. 
Alas !  alas !  I  had  hoped  that  as  long  as  I  lived 
I  should  be  able  to  do  these  things.  But  it  is 
not  so.  I  have  grown  utterly  worthless,  and 
some  one  else  must  prepare  the  dinner  for  my 
son.  I  wonder  where  he  is."  And  tottering 
to  the  door,  she  went  outside  to  look  for  him. 
She  did  not  feel  able  to  stand,  and  reaching  the 
rustic  chair,  she  sank  into  it,  quite  exhausted, 
and  soon  fell  asleep. 

The  Dryad,  who  had  often  come  to  the  cot- 


28  Fanciful  Tales 

cage  to  see  if  she  could  find  an  opportunity 
of  carrying  out  Old  Pipes's  affectionate  design, 
now  happened  by ;  and  seeing  that  the  much- 
desired  occasion  had  come,  she  stepped  up 
quietly  behind  the  old  woman  and  gently  kissed 
her  on  each  cheek,  and  then  as  quietly  dis- 
appeared. 

In  a  few  minutes  the  mother  of  Old  Pipes 
awoke,  and  looking  up  at  the  sun,  she  exclaimed : 
"  Why,  it  is  almost  dinner-time !  My  son  will 
be  here  directly,  and  I  am  not  ready  for  him." 
And  rising  to  her  feet,  she  hurried  into  the 
house,  made  the  fire,  set  the  meat  and  vege- 
tables to  cook,  laid  the  cloth,  and  by  the  time 
her  son  arrived  the  meal  was  on  the  table. 

"  How  a  little  sleep  does  refresh  one,"  she 
said  to  herself,  as  she  was  bustling  about.  She 
was  a  woman  of  very  vigorous  constitution, 
and  at  seventy  had  been  a  great  deal  stronger 
and  more  active  than  her  son  was  at  that  age. 
The  moment  Old  Pipes  saw  his  mother,  he 
knew  that  the  Dryad  had  been  there ;  but, 
while  he  felt  as  happy  as  a  king,  he  was  too 
wise  to  say  anything  about  her. 

"  It  is  astonishing  how  well  I  feel  to-day," 
said  his  mother ;  "  and  either  my  hearing  has 
improved  or  you  speak  much  more  plainly 
than  you  have  done  of  late." 


Old  Pipes  and  the  Dryad  29 

The  summer  days  went  on  and  passed  away, 
the  leaves  were  falling  from  the  trees,  and  the 
air  was  becoming  cold. 

"  Nature  has  ceased  to  be  lovely,"  said  the 
Dryad,  "  and  the  night-winds  chill  me.  It  is 
time  for  me  to  go  back  into  my  comfortable 
quarters  in  the  great  oak.  But  first  I  must  pay 
another  visit  to  the  cottage  of  Old  Pipes." 

She  found  the  piper  and  his  mother  sitting 
side  by  side  on  the  rock  in  front  of  the  door. 
The  cattle  were  not  to  go  to  the  mountain  any 
more  that  season,  and  he  was  piping  them  down 
for  the  last  time.  Loud  and  merrily  sounded 
the  pipes  of  Old  Pipes,  and  down  the  mountain- 
side came  the  cattle,  the  cows  by  the  easiest 
paths,  the  sheep  by  those  not  quite  so  easy, 
and  the  goats  by  the  most  difficult  ones  among 
the  rocks ;  while  from  the  great  oak  tree  were 
heard  the  echoes  of  the  cheerful  music. 

"  How  happy  they  look,  sitting  there  to- 
gether," said  the  Dryad ;  "  and  I  don't  believe 
it  will  do  them  a  bit  of  harm  to  be  still  younger." 
And  moving  quietly  up  behind  them,  she  first 
kissed  Old  Pipes  on  his  cheek  and  then  kissed 
his  mother. 

Old  Pipes,  who  had  stopped  playing,  knew 
what  it  was,  but  he  did  not  move,  and  said 
nothing.      His  mother,  thinking  that  her  son 


30  Fanciful  Tales 

had  kissed  her,  turned  to  him  with  a  smile  and 
kissed  him  in  return.  And  then  she  arose  and 
went  into  the  cottage,  a  vigorous  woman  of 
sixty,  followed  by  her  son,  erect  and  happy,  and 
twenty  years  younger  than  herself. 

The  Dryad  sped  away  to  the  woods,  shrug- 
ging her  shoulders  as  she  felt  the  cool  evening 
wind. 

When  she  reached  the  great  oak,  she  turned 
the  key  and  opened  the  door.  "  Come  out," 
she  said  to  the  Echo-dwarf,  who  sat  blinking 
within.  "  Winter  is  coming  on,  and  I  want  the 
comfortable  shelter  of  my  tree  for  myself.  The 
cattle  have  come  down  from  the  mountain  for 
the  last  time  this  year,  the  pipes  will  no  longer 
sound,  and  you  can  go  to  your  rocks  and  have 
a  holiday  until  next  spring." 

Upon  hearing  these  words  the  dwarf  skipped 
quickly  out,  and  the  Dryad  entered  the  tree 
and  pulled  the  door  shut  after  her.  "Now, 
then,"  she  said  to  herself,  "  he  can  break  off  the 
key  if  he  likes.  It  does  not  matter  to  me. 
Another  will  grow  out  next  spring.  And  al- 
though the  good  piper  made  me  no  promise, 
I  know  that  when  the  warm  days  arrive  next 
year,  he  will  come  and  let  me  out  again." 

The  Echo-dwarf  did  not  stop  to  Dreak  the 
key  of  the  tree.     He  was  too  happy  to  be  re*- 


Old  Pipes  and  the  Dryad  31 

leased  to  think  of  anything  else,  and  he  hastened 
as  fast  as  he  could  to  his  home  on  the  rockv 
hill-side. 

The  Dryad  was  not  mistaken  when  she  trusted 
in  the  piper.  When  the  warm  days  came  again 
he  went  to  the  oak  tree  to  let  her  out.  But,  to 
his  sorrow  and  surprise,  he  found  the  great 
tree  lying  upon  the  ground.  A  winter  storm 
had  blown  it  down,  and  it  lay  with  its  trunk 
shattered  and  split.  And  what  became  of  the 
Dryad  no  one  ever  knew. 


THE  BEE-MAN  OF  ORN 

In  the  ancient  country  of  Orn  there  lived  an 
old  man  who  was  called  the  Bee-man,  because 
his  whole  time  was  spent  in  the  company  of 
bees.  He  lived  in  a  small  hut,  which  was 
nothing  more  than  an  immense  bee-hive,  for 
these  little  creatures  had  built  their  honey- 
combs in  every  corner  of  the  one  room  it  con- 
tained,  on  the  shelves,  under  the  little  table, 
all  about  the  rough  bench  on  which  the  old 
man  sat,  and  even  about  the  head-board  and 
along  the  sides  of  his  low  bed. 

All  day  the  air  of  the  room  was  thick  with 
buzzing  insects,  but  this  did  not  interfere  in 
any  way  with  the  old  Bee-man,  who  walked  in 
among  them,  ate  his  meals,  and  went  to  sleep, 
without  the  slightest  fear  of  being  stung. 

He  had  lived  with  the  bees  so  long,  they 
had  become  so  accustomed  to  him,  and  his  skin 
was  so  tough  and  hard,  that  the  bees  no  more 
thought  of  stinging  him  than  they  would  of 
stinging  a  tree  or  a  stone.     A  swarm  of  bees 


The  Bee-Man  of  Orn  33 

haa  made  their  hive  in  a  pocket  of  his  old 
leathern  doublet ;  and  when  he  put  on  this 
coat  to  take  one  of  his  long  walks  in  the  forest 
in  search  of  wild  bees*  nests,  he  was  very  glad 
to  have  this  hive  with  him,  for,  if  he  did  not 
find  any  wild  honey,  he  would  put  his  hand  in 
his  pocket  and  take  out  a  piece  of  a  comb  for  a 
luncheon.  The  bees  in  his  pocket  worked  very 
industriously,  and  he  was  always  certain  of 
having  something  to  eat  with  him  wherever  he 
went.  He  lived  principally  upon  honey  ;  and 
when  he  needed  bread  or  meat,  he  carried 
some  fine  combs  to  a  village  not  far  away  and 
bartered  them  for  other  food.  He  was  ugly, 
untidy,  shrivelled,  and  brown.  He  was  poor, 
and  the  bees  seemed  to  be  his  only  friends. 
But,  for  all  that,  he  was  happy  and  contented ; 
he  had  all  the  honey  he  wanted,  and  his  bees, 
whom  he  considered  the  best  company  in  the 
world,  were  as  friendly  and  sociable  as  they 
could  be,  and  seemed  to  increase  in  number 
every  day. 

One  day  there  stopped  at  the  hut  of  the  Bee- 
man  a  Junior  Sorcerer.  This  young  person, 
who  was  a  student  of  magic,  was  much  inter- 
ested in  the  Bee-man,  whom  he  had  often 
noticed  in  his  wanderings,  and  he  considered 
him  an  admirable  subject  for  study.  He  had 
3 


34  Fanciful  Tales 

got  a  great  deal  of  useful  practice  by  trying 
to  find  out,  by  the  various  rules  and  laws  of 
sorcery,  exactly  why  the  old  Bee-man  did  not 
happen  to  be  something  that  he  was  not,  and 
why  he  was  what  he  happened  to  be.  He  had 
studied  a  long  time  at  this  matter,  and  had 
found  out  something. 

"  Do  you  know,"  he  said,  when  the  Bee-man 
came  out  of  his  hut,  "  that  you  have  been  trans- 
formed?" 

"  What  do  you  mean  by  that  ?  "  said  the 
other,  much  surprised. 

"  You  have  surely  heard  of  animals  and 
human  beings  who  have  been  magically  trans- 
formed into  different  kinds  of  creatures  ?  " 

"  Yes,  I  have  heard  of  these  things,"  said  the 
Bee-man ;  "  but  what  have  I  been  transformed 
from?" 

"  That  is  more  than  I  know,"  said  the  Junior 
Sorcerer.  "  But  one  thing  is  certain :  you 
oug  ht  to  be  changed  back.  If  you  will  find 
out  what  you  have  been  transformed  from,  I 
wili  see  that  you  are  made  all  right  again. 
Nothing  would  please  me  better  than  to  attend 
to  such  a  case." 

And,  having  a  great  many  things  to  study 
and  investigate,  the  Junior  Sorcerer  went  his 
way. 


The  Bee- Man  of  Orn  35 

ihis  information  greatly  disturbed  the  mind 
of  the  Bee-man.  If  he  had  been  changed  from 
something  else,  he  ought  to  be  that  other  thing, 
whatever  it  was.  He  ran  after  the  young  man, 
and  overtook  him. 

"  If  you  know,  kind  sir,"  he  said, "  that  I  have 
been  transformed,  you  surely  are  able  to  tell 
me  what  it  is  that  I  was." 

"  No,"  said  the  Junior  Sorcerer,  "  my  studies 
have  not  proceeded  far  enough  for  that.  When 
I  become  a  senior  I  can  tell  you  all  about  it. 
But,  in  the  meantime,  it  will  be  well  for  you  to 
try  to  find  out  for  yourself  your  original  form  ; 
and  when  you  have  done  that,  I  will  get  some 
of  the  learned  masters  of  my  art  to  restore  you 
to  it.  It  will  be  easy  enough  to  do  that,  but 
you  could  not  expect  them  to  take  the  time 
and  trouble  to  find  out  what  it  was." 

And,  with  these  words,  he  hurried  away,  and 
was  soon  lost  to  view. 

Greatly  disturbed,  the  Bee-man  retraced  his 
steps,  and  went  to  his  hut.  Never  before  had 
he  heard  anything  which  had  so  troubled  him. 

"I  wonder  what  I  was  transformed  from?" 
he  thought,  seating  himself  on  his  rough  bench. 
"  Could  it  have  been  a  giant,  or  a  powenul 
prince,  or  some  gorgeous  being  whom  the  ma- 
gicians or  the  fairies  wishfd   to  punish?     It 


36  Fanciful  Tales 

may  be  that  I  was  a  dog  or  a  horse,  or  perhaps 
a  fiery  dragon  or  a  horrid  snake.  I  hope  it 
was  not  one  of  these.  But  whatever  it  was, 
everyone  has  certainly  a  right  to  his  original 
form,  and  I  am  resolved  to  find  out  mine.  I 
will  start  early  to-morrow  morning ;  and  I  am 
sorry  now  that  I  have  not  more  pockets  to  my 
old  doublet,  so  that  I  might  carry  more  bees 
and  more  honey  for  my  journey." 

He  spent  the  rest  of  the  day  in  making  a  hive 
of  twigs  and  straw ;  and,  having  transferred 
to  this  a  number  of  honey-combs  and  a  colony 
of  bees  which  had  just  swarmed,  he  rose  befon 
sunrise  the  next  day,  and  having  put  on  hii 
leathern  doublet,  and  having  bound  his  new 
hive  to  his  back,  he  set  forth  on  his  quest,  the 
bees  who  were  to  accompany  him  buzzing 
around  him  like  a  cloud. 

As  the  Bee-man  pressed  through  the  little 
village  the  people  greatly  wondered  at  his 
queer  appearance,  with  the  hive  upon  his  back. 
"  The  Bee-man  is  going  on  a  long  journey  this 
time,"  they  said ;  but  no  one  imagined  the 
strange  business  on  which  he  was  bent.  About 
noon  he  sat  down  under  a  tree,  near  a  beauti- 
ful meadow  covered  with  blossoms,  and  ate  a 
little  honey.  Then  he  untied  his  hive  and 
stretched  himself  out  on  the  grass  to  rest     As 


Ths  Bee- Man  of  Orn  2>1 

he  gazed  upon  his  bees  hovering  about  him, 
some  going  out  to  the  blossoms  in  the  sunshine, 
and  some  returning  laden  with  the  sweet  pol- 
len, he  said  to  himself,  "  They  know  just  what 
they  have  to  do,  and  they  do  it ;  but  alas  for 
me  !  I  know  not  what  I  may  have  to  do.  And 
yet,  whatever  it  may  be,  I  am  determined  to  do 
it.  In  some  way  or  other  I  will  find  out  what 
was  my  original  form,  and  then  I  will  have 
myself  changed  back  to  it." 

And  now  the  thought  came  to  him  that  per- 
haps his  original  form  might  have  been  some* 
thing  very  disagreeable,  or  even  horrid. 

"  But  it  does  not  matter,"  he  said  sturdily. 
"  Whatever  I  was  that  shall  I  be  again.  It  is 
not  right  for  anyone  to  keep  a  form  which  does 
not  properly  belong  to  him.  I  have  no  doubt 
I  shall  discover  my  original  form  in  the  same 
way  that  I  find  the  trees  in  which  the  wild  bees 
hive.  When  I  first  catch  sight  of  a  bee  tree  I 
am  drawn  toward  it,  I  know  not  how.  Some- 
thing says  to  me  :  *  That  is  what  you  are  look- 
ing for.*  In  the  same  way  I  believe  that  I  shall 
find  my  original  form.  When  I  see  it,  I  shall 
be  drawn  toward  it.  Something  will  say  to 
me:  '  That  is  it.' " 

When  the  Bee-man  was  rested  he  started  off 
again,  and  in  about  an  hour  he  entered  a  fair 


38  Fanciful  Tales 

domain.  Around  him  were  beautiful  lawns, 
grand  trees,  and  lovely  gardens  ;  while  at  a 
little  distance  stood  the  stately  palace  of  the 
Lord  of  the  Domain.  Richly  dressed  people 
were  walking  about  or  sitting  in  the  shade 
of  the  trees  and  arbors  ;  splendidly  equipped 
horses  were  waiting  for  their  riders  ;  and  every- 
where were  seen  signs  of  wealth  and  gayety. 

"  I  think,"  said  the  Bee-man  to  himself,  "  that 
I  should  like  to  stop  here  for  a  time.  If  it 
should  happen  that  I  was  originally  like  any  of 
these  happy  creatures  it  would  please  me  much." 

He  untied  his  hive,  and  hid  it  behind  some 
bushes,  and,  taking  off  his  old  doublet,  laid  that 
beside  it.  It  would  not  do  to  have  his  bees  fly- 
ing about  him  if  he  wished  to  go  among  the 
inhabitants  of  this  fair  domain. 

For  two  days  the  Bee-man  wandered  about 
the  palace  and  its  grounds,  avoiding  notice  as 
much  as  possible,  but  looking  at  everything. 
He  saw  handsome  men  and  lovely  ladies ;  the 
finest  horses,  dogs,  and  cattle  that  were  ever 
known ;  beautiful  birds  in  cages,  and  fishes  in 
crystal  globes :  and  it  seemed  to  him  that  the 
best  of  all  living  things  were  here  collected. 

At  the  close  of  the  second  day  the  Bee-man 
said  to  himself :  "  There  is  one  being  here  tow- 
ard whom  I   feel  very  much  drawn,  and  that 


The  Bee-Man  of  Orn  39 

is  the  Lord  of  the  Domain.  I  cannot  feel 
certain  that  I  was  once  like  him,  but  it  would 
be  a  very  fine  thing  if  it  were  so ;  and  it  seems 
impossible  for  me  to  be  drawn  toward  any 
other  being  in  the  domain  when  I  look  upon 
him,  so  handsome,  rich,  and  powerful.  But  I 
must  observe  him  more  closely,  and  feel  more 
sure  of  the  matter,  before  applying  to  the  sor- 
cerers to  change  me  back  into  a  lord  of  a  fair 
domain." 

The  next  morning  the  Bee-man  saw  the  Lord 
of  the  Domain  walking  in  his  gardens.  He 
slipped  along  the  shady  paths,  and  followed 
him  so  as  to  observe  him  closely,  and  find  out 
if  he  were  really  drawn  toward  this  noble  and 
handsome  being.  The  Lord  of  the  Domain 
walked  on  for  some  time,  not  noticing  that 
the  Bee-man  was  behind  him.  But  suddenly 
turning,  he  saw  the  little  old  man. 

"  What  are  you  doing  here,  you  vile  beg- 
gar ?  "  he  cried,  and  he  gave  him  a  kick  that 
sent  him  into  some  bushes  that  grew  by  the 
side  of  the  path. 

The  Bee-man  scrambled  to  his  feet,  and  ran 
as  fast  as  he  could  to  the  place  where  he  had 
hidden  his  hive  and  his  old  doublet. 

"  If  I  am  certain  of  anything,"  he  thought, 
"it  is  that  I  was  never  a  person  who  would 


4©  Fanciful  Tales 

kick  a  poor  old  man.  I  will  leave  this  place. 
I  was  transformed  from  nothing  that  I  see 
here." 

He  now  travelled  for  a  day  or  two  longer, 
and  then  he  came  to  a  great  black  mountain, 
near  the  bottom  of  which  was  an  opening  like 
the  mouth  of  a  cave. 

This  mountain  he  had  heard  was  filled  with 
caverns  and  underground  passages,  which  were 
the  abodes  of  dragons,  evil  spirits,  horrid  creat- 
ures of  all  kinds. 

"  Ah  me  !  "  said  the  Bee-man  with  a  sigh,  "  I 
suppose  I  ought  to  visit  this  place.  If  I  am  go- 
ing to  do  this  thing  properly,  I  should  look  on 
all  sides  of  the  subject,  and  I  may  have  been 
one  of  those  horrid  creatures  myself." 

Thereupon  he  went  to  the  mountain,  and, 
as  he  approached  the  opening  of  the  passage 
which  led  into  its  inmost  recesses,  he  saw,  sit- 
ting upon  the  ground,  and  leaning  his  back 
against  a  tree,  a  Languid  Youth. 

"  Good-day,"  said  this  individual  when  he 
saw  the  Bee-man.     "  Are  you  going  inside  ?  " 

"  Yes,"  said  the  Bee-man,  "  that  is  what  I  in- 
tend to  do." 

"  Then,"  said  the  Languid  Youth,  slowly 
rising  to  his  feet,  "  I  think  I  will  go  with  you. 
I  was  told  that  if  I  went  in  there  I  should  get 


The  Bee-Man  of  Orn  41 

my  energies  toned  up,  and  they  need  it  very 
much ;  but  I  did  not  feel  equal  to  entering  by 
myself,  and  I  thought  I  would  wait  until  some 
one  came  along.  I  am  very  glad  to  see  you, 
and  we  will  go  in  together." 

So  the  two  went  into  the  cave,  and  they  had 
proceeded  but  a  short  distance  when  they  met 
a  very  little  creature,  whom  it  was  easy  to  rec- 
ognize as  a  Very  Imp.  He  was  about  two  feet 
high,  and  resembled  in  color  a  freshly  polished 
pair  of  boots.  He  was  extremely  lively  and  ac- 
tive, and  came  bounding  toward  them. 

"  What  did  you  two  people  come  here  for  ?  " 
he  asked. 

"  I  came,"  said  the  Languid  Youth,  "  to  have 
my  energies  toned  up." 

"  You  have  come  to  the  right  place,"  said  the 
Very  Imp.  "  We  will  tone  you  up.  And  what 
does  that  old  Bee-man  want  ?  " 

"  He  has  been  transformed  from  something, 
and  wants  to  find  out  what  it  is.  He  thinks  he 
may  have  been  one  of  the  things  in  here." 

"  I  should  not  wonder  if  that  were  so/'  said 
the  Very  Imp,  rolling  his  head  on  one  side,  and 
eying  the  Bee-man  with  a  critical  gaze. 

"  All  right,"  said  the  Very  Imp ;  "  he  can  go 
around,  and  pick  out  his  previous  existence. 
We  have  here  all  sorts  of  vile  creepers,  crawl 


42  Fanciful  Tales 

ers,  hissers,  and  snorters.  I  suppose  he  thinks 
anything  will  be  better  than  a  Bee-man." 

"  It  is  not  because  I  want  to  be  better  than  I 
am,"  said  the  Bee-man,  "  that  I  started  out  on 
this  search.  I  have  simply  an  honest  desire  to 
become  what  I  originally  was." 

"Oh!  that  is  it,  is  it?"  said  the  other. 
"  There  is  an  idiotic  moon-calf  here  with  a  clam 
head,  which  must  be  just  like  what  you  used 
to  be." 

"  Nonsense,"  said  the  Bee-man.  "  You  have 
not  the  least  idea  what  an  honest  purpose  is.  I 
shall  go  about  and  see  for  myself." 

"  Go  ahead,"  said  the  Very  Imp,  "  and  I  W2il 
attend  to  this  fellow  who  wants  to  be  toned 
up."     So  saying  he  joined  the  Languid  Youth. 

"  Look  here,"  said  the  Youth,  "  do  you  black 
and  shine  yourself  every  morning  ?  " 

"  No,"  said  the  other,  "  it  is  water-proof  var- 
nish. You  want  to  be  invigorated,  don't  you  ? 
Well,  I  will  tell  you  a  splendid  way  to  begin. 
You  see  that  Bee-man  has  put  down  his 
hive  and  his  coat  with  the  bees  in  it.  Just 
wait  till  he  gets  out  of  sight,  and  then  catch 
a  lot  of  those  bees,  and  squeeze  them  flat. 
If  you  spread  them  on  a  sticky  rag,  and 
make  a  plaster,  and  put  it  on  the  small  of 
your  back,  it  will  invigorate  you  like  every- 


The  Bee-Man  of  Orn  43 

thing,  especially  if  some  of  the  bees  are  not 
quite  dead.'* 

"  Yes,"  said  the  Languid  Youth,  looking  at 
him  with  his  mild  eyes,  "  but  if  I  had  energy 
enough  to  catch  a  bee  I  would  be  satisfied. 
Suppose  you  catch  a  lot  for  me." 

"  The  subject  is  changed,"  said  the  Very  Imp. 
*'  We  are  now  about  to  visit  the  spacious  cham- 
ber of  the  King  of  the  Snap-dragons." 

"  That  is  a  flower,"  said  the  Languid  Youth. 

"  You  will  find  him  a  gay  old  blossom,"  said 
the  other.  "  When  he  has  chased  you  round 
his  room,  and  has  blown  sparks  at  you,  and  has 
snorted  and  howled,  and  cracked  his  tail,  and 
snapped  his  jaws  like  a  pair  of  anvils,  your  en- 
ergies will  be  toned  up  higher  than  ever  before 
in  your  life." 

"  No  doubt  of  it,"  said  the  Languid  Youth ; 
"but  I  think  I  will  begin  with  something  a 
little  milder." 

"  Well,  then,"  said  the  other,  « there  is  a  flat- 
tailed  Demon  of  the  Gorge  in  here.  He  is 
generally  asleep,  and,  if  you  say  so,  you  can  slip 
into  the  farthest  corner  of  his  cave,  and  I'll 
solder  his  tail  to  the  opposite  wall.  Then 
he  will  rage  and  roar,  but  he  can't  get  at 
you,  for  he  doesn't  reach  all  the  way  across 
his  cave ;  I  have  measured  him.    It  will  tone 


44  Fanciful  Tales 

you  up  wonderfully  to  sit  there  and  watch 
him." 

"  Very  likely,"  said  the  Languid  Youth  ;  "  but 
I  would  rather  stay  outside  and  let  you  go  up 
in  the  corner.  The  performance  in  that  way 
will  be  more  interesting  to  me." 

"  You  are  dreadfully  hard  to  please,"  said  the 
Very  Imp.  "  I  have  offered  them  to  you  loose, 
and  I  have  offered  them  fastened  to  a  wall,  and 
now  the  best  thing  I  can  do  is  to  give  you  a 
chance  at  one  of  them  that  can't  move  at  all. 
It  is  the  Ghastly  Griffin,  and  is  enchanted.  He 
can't  stir  so  much  as  the  tip  of  his  whiskers 
for  a  thousand  years.  You  can  go  to  his  cave 
and  examine  him  just  as  if  he  were  stuffed,  and 
then  you  can  sit  on  his  back  and  think  how  it 
would  be  if  you  should  live  to  be  a  thousand 
years  old,  and  he  should  wake  up  while  you  are 
sitting  there.  It  would  be  easy  to  imagine  a 
lot  of  horrible  things  he  would  do  to  you  when 
you  look  at  his  open  mouth  with  its  awful  fangs, 
his  dreadful  claws,  and  his  horrible  wings  all 
covered  with  spikes." 

"  I  think  that  might  suit  me,"  said  the  Lan- 
guid Youth.  ",I  would  much  rather  imagine 
the  exercises  of  these  monsters  than  to  see  them 
really  going  on." 

"Come  on,  then,"  said  the  Very  Imp,  and 


The  Bee- Man  of  Orn  45 

he    led   the  way  to  the  cave  of   the  Ghastly 
Griffin. 

The  Bee-man  went  by  himself  through  a 
great  part  of  the  mountain,  and  looked  into 
many  of  its  gloomy  caves  and  recesses,  recoil- 
ing in  horror  from  most  of  the  dreadful  mon- 
sters who  met  his  eyes.  While  he  was  wander- 
ing about,  an  awful  roar  was  heard  resounding 
through  the  passages  of  the  mountain,  and  soon 
there  came  flapping  along  an  enormous  dragon, 
with  body  black  as  night,  and  wings  and  tail  of 
fiery  red.  In  his  great  fore-claws  he  bore  a 
little  baby. 

"  Horrible !  "  exclaimed  the  Bee-man.  "  He 
is  taking  that  little  creature  to  his  cave  to 
devour  it." 

He  saw  the  dragon  enter  a  cave  not  far 
away,  and,  following,  looked  in.  The  dragon 
was  crouched  upon  the  ground  with  the  little 
baby  lying  before  him.  It  did  not  seem  to  be 
hurt,  but  was  frightened  and  crying.  The 
monster  was  looking  upon  it  with  delight,  as  if 
he  intended  to  make  a  dainty  meal  of  it  as  soon 
as  his  appetite  should  be  a  little  stronger. 

"  It  is  too  bad ! "  thought  the  Bee-man. 
"  Somebody  ought  to  do  something."  And 
turning  around,  he  ran  away  as  fast  as  he 
could. 


46  Fanciful  Tales 

He  ran  through  various  passages  until  he 
came  to  the  spot  where  he  had  left  his  bee-hive. 
Picking  it  up,  he  hurried  back,  carrying  the 
hive  in  his  two  hands  before  him.  When  he 
reached  the  cave  of  the  dragon,  he  looked  in 
and  saw  the  monster  still  crouched  over  the 
weeping  child.  Without  a  moment's  hesita- 
tion, the  Bee-man  rushed  into  the  cave  and 
threw  his  hive  straight  into  the  face  of  the  drag- 
on. The  bees,  enraged  by  the  shock,  rushed 
out  in  an  angry  crowd  and  immediately  fell 
upon  the  head,  mouth,  eyes,  and  nose  of  the 
dragon.  The  great  monster,  astounded  by  this 
sudden  attack,  and  driven  almost  wild  by  the 
numberless  stings  of  the  bees,  sprang  back  to 
the  farthest  corner  of  his  cave,  still  followed  by 
the  bees,  at  whom  he  flapped  wildly  with  his 
great  wings  and  struck  with  his  paws.  While 
the  dragon  was  thus  engaged  with  the  bees, 
the  Bee-man  rushed  forward,  and,  seizing  the 
child,  he  hurried  away.  He  did  not  stop  to 
pick  up  his  doublet,  but  kept  on  until  he 
reached  the  entrance  of  the  cave.  There  he 
saw  the  Very  Imp  hopping  along  on  one  leg, 
and  rubbing  his  back  and  shoulders  with  his 
hands,  and  stopped  to  inquire  what  was  the 
matter,  and  what  had  become  of  the  Languid 
Youth. 


The  Bee-Man  of  Orn  47 

"  He  is  no  kind  of  a  fellow,"  said  the  Very 
Imp.  "  He  disappointed  me  dreadfully.  I  took 
him  up  to  the  Ghastly  Griffin,  and  told  him  the 
thing  was  enchanted,  and  that  he  might  sit  on 
its  back  and  think  about  what  it  could  do  if  it 
was  awake  ;  and  when  he  came  near  it  the 
wretched  creature  opened  its  eyes,  and  raised 
its  head,  and  then  you  ought  to  have  seen  how 
mad  that  simpleton  was.  He  made  a  dash  at 
me  and  seized  me  by  the  ears ;  he  kicked  and 
beat  me  till  I  can  scarcely  move." 

"  His  energies  must  have  been  toned  up  a 
good  deal,"  said  the  Bee-man. 

"  Toned  up  !  I  should  say  so ! "  cried  the 
other.  "  I  raised  a  howl,  and  a  Scissor-jawed 
Clipper  came  out  of  his  hole,  and  got  after 
him ;  but  that  lazy  fool  ran  so  fast  that  he  could 
not  be  caught." 

The  Bee-man  now  ran  on  and  soon  overtook 
the  Languid  Youth. 

"  You  need  not  be  in  a  hurry  now,"  said  the 
latter,  "for  the  rules  of  this  institution  don't 
allow  the  creatures  inside  to  come  out  of  this 
opening,  or  to  hang  around  it.  If  they  did, 
they  would  frighten  away  visitors.  They  go 
in  and  out  of  holes  in  the  upper  part  of  the 
mountain." 

The  two  proceeded  on  their  way. 


48  Fanciful  Tales 

"  What  are  you  going  to  do  with  that  baby  ?  w 
said  the  Languid  Youth. 

"  I  shall  carry  it  along  with  me,"  said  the 
Bee-man,  "  as  I  go  on  with  my  search,  and  per- 
haps I  may  find  its  mother.  If  I  do  not,  I  shall 
give  it  to  somebody  in  that  little  village  yonder. 
Anything  would  be  better  than  leaving  it  to 
be  devoured  by  that  horrid  dragon." 

"  Let  me  carry  it.  I  feel  quite  strong  enough 
now  to  carry  a  baby." 

"  Thank  you,"  said  the  Bee-man ;  "  but  I  can 
take  it  myself.  I  like  to  carry  something,  and 
I  have  now  neither  my  hive  nor  my  doublet." 

"  It  is  very  well  that  you  had  to  leave  them 
behind,"  said  the  Youth,  "  for  the  bees  would 
have  stung  the  baby." 

"  My  bees  never  sting  babies,'*  said  the  other. 

"They  probably  never  had  a  chance,"  re- 
marked his  companion. 

They  soon  entered  the  village,  and  after 
walking  a  short  distance  the  Youth  exclaimed ; 
"  Do  you  see  that  woman  over  there  sitting  at 
the  door  of  her  house  ?  She  has  beautiful  hair, 
and  she  is  tearing  it  all  to  pieces.  She  should 
not  be  allowed  to  do  that." 

"  No,"  said  the  Bee-man.  "  Her  friends 
should  tie  her  hands." 

"  Perhaps  she  is  the  mother  of  this  child," 


The  Bee-Man  of  Orn  49 

S2l\\jL  the  Youth, "  and  if  you  give  it  to  her  she 
will  no  longer  think  of  tearing  her  hair." 

"But,"  said  the  Bee-man,  "you  don't  really 
think  this  is  her  child  ?  " 

"  Suppose  you  go  over  and  see,"  said  the 
other. 

The  Bee-man  hesitated  a  moment,  and  then 
he  walked  toward  the  woman.  Hearing  him 
coming,  she  raised  her  head,  and  when  she  saw 
the  child  she  rushed  toward  it,  snatched  it  into 
her  arms,  and  screaming  with  joy  she  covered 
it  with  kisses.  Then  with  happy  tears  she 
begged  to  know  the  story  of  the  rescue  of  her 
child,  whom  she  never  expected  to  see  again ; 
and  she  loaded  the  Bee-man  with  thanks  and 
blessings.  The  friends  and  neighbors  gathered 
around,  and  there  was  great  rejoicing.  The 
mother  urged  the  Bee-man  and  the  Youth  to 
stay  with  her,  and  rest  and  refresh  themselves, 
which  they  were  glad  to  do,  as  they  were  tired 
and  hungry. 

They  remained  at  the  cottage  all  night,  and  in 
the  afternoon  of  the  next  day  the  Bee-man  said 
to  the  Youth  :  "  It  may  seem  an  odd  thing  to 
you,  but  never  in  all  my  life  have  I  felt  myself 
drawn  toward  any  living  being  as  I  am  drawn 
toward  this  baby.  Therefore  I  believe  that  I 
have  been  transformed  from  a  baby." 


50  Fanciful  Tales 

"  Good  !  "  cried  the  Youth.  "  It  is  my  opin- 
ion that  you  have  hit  the  truth.  And  now 
would  you  like  to  be  changed  back  to  your 
original  form  ?  " 

"  Indeed  I  would  ! "  said  the  Bee-man.  "  1 
have  the  strongest  yearning  to  be  what  I  origi- 
nally was." 

The  Youth,  who  had  now  lost  every  trace  of 
languid  feeling,  took  a  great  interest  in  the 
matter,  and  early  the  next  morning  started  off 
to  tell  the  Junior  Sorcerer  that  the  Bee-man 
had  discovered  what  he  had  been  transformed 
from,  and  desired  to  be  changed  back  to  it. 

The  Junior  Sorcerer  and  his  learned  Masters 
were  filled  with  delight  when  they  heard  this 
report,  and  they  at  once  set  out  for  the  mother's 
cottage.  And  there  by  magic  arts  the  Bee-man 
was  changed  back  into  a  baby„  The  mother 
was  so  grateful  for  what  the  Bee-man  had  done 
for  her  that  she  agreed  to  take  charge  of  this 
baby,  and  to  bring  it  up  as  her  own. 

"  It  will  be  a  grand  thing  for  him,"  said  the 
Junior  Sorcerer,  "  and  I  am  glad  that  I  studied 
his  case.  He  will  now  have  a  fresh  start  in  life, 
and  will  have  a  chance  to  become  something 
better  than  a  miserable  old  man  living  in  a 
wretched  hut  with  no  friends  or  companions 
but  buzzing  bees." 


The  Bee- Man  of  Orn  5  s 

The  Junior  Sorcerer  and  his  Masters  then  re- 
turned to  their  homes,  happy  in  the  success  of 
their  great  performance ;  and  the  Youth  went 
back  to  his  home  anxious  to  begin  a  life  of  ac- 
tivity and  energy. 

Years  and  years  afterward,  when  the  Junior 
Sorcerer  had  become  a  Senior  and  was  very 
old  indeed,  he  passed  through  the  country  of 
Orn,  and  noticed  a  small  hut  about  which 
swarms  of  bees  were  flying.  He  approached  it, 
and  looking  in  at  the  door  he  saw  an  old  man 
in  a  leathern  doublet,  sitting  at  a  table,  eating 
honey.  By  his  magic  art  he  knew  this  was  the 
baby  which  had  been  transformed  from  the 
Bee-man. 

"  Upon  my  word !  "  exclaimed  the  Sorcerer, 
*  he  has  grown  into  the  same  thing  again! " 


THE  CLOCKS  OF  RONDAINE  ^ 

Centuries  ago,  there  stood  on  the  banks  oi 
a  river  a  little  town  called  Rondaine.  The 
river  was  a  long  and  winding  stream  which 
ran  through  different  countries,  and  was  some- 
times narrow  and  swift,  and  sometimes  broad 
and  placid ;  sometimes  hurrying  through 
mountain  passes,  and  again  meandering  quietly 
through  fertile  plains  ;  in  some  places  of  a  blue, 
color  and  almost  transparent,  and  in  others  of  a 
dark  and  sombre  hue  ;  and  so  it  changed  until 
it  threw  itself  into  a  warm,  far-spreading  sea. 

But  it  was  quite  otherwise  with  the  little 
town.  As  far  back  as  anybody  could  remem- 
ber, it  had  always  been  the  same  that  it  was 
at  the  time  of  our  story ;  and  the  people  who 
lived  there  could  see  no  reason  to  suppose  that 
it  would  ever  be  different  from  what  it  was 
then.  It  was  a  pleasant  little  town,  its  citizens 
were  very  happy ;  and  why  there  should  be 
any  change  in  it,  the  most  astute  old  man  in  all 
Rondaine  could  not  have  told  you. 


ARIA  AND  THE  SACRISTAN. 


The  Clocks  of  Rondaine  53 

If  Rondaine  had  been  famed  for  anything  at 
all,  it  would  have  been  for  the  number  of  its 
clocks.  It  had  many  churches,  some  little  ones 
in  dark  side  streets,  and  some  larger  ones  in 
wider  avenues,  besides  here  and  there  a  very 
good-sized  church  fronting  on  a  park  or  open 
square;  and  in  the  steeple  of  each  of  these 
churches  there  was  a  clock. 

There  were  town  buildings,  very  old  ones, 
which  stood  upon  the  great  central  square. 
Each  of  these  had  a  tower,  and  in  each  tower 
was  a  clock. 

Then  there  were  clocks  at  street  corners,  and 
two  clocks  in  the  market-place,  and  clocks  over 
shop-doors,  a  clock  at  each  end  of  the  bridge, 
and  several  large  clocks  a  little  way  out  of 
town.  Many  of  these  clocks  were  fashioned  in 
some  quaint  and  curious  way.  In  one  of  the 
largest  a  stone  man  came  out  and  struck  the 
hours  with  a  stone  hammer,  while  a  stone 
woman  struck  the  half  hours  with  a  stone 
broom ;  and  in  another  an  iron  donkey  kicked 
the  hours  on  a  bell  behind  him. 

It  would  be  impossible  to  tell  all  the  odd 
ways  in  which  the  clocks  of  Rondaine  struck  : 
but  in  one  respect  they  were  alike  :  they  all  did 
strike.  The  good  people  of  the  town  would 
not  have  tolerated  a  clock  which  did  not  strike. 


54  Fanciful  Tales 

It  was  very  interesting  to  lie  awake  in  the 
night  and  hear  the  clocks  of  Rondaine  strike. 
First  would  come  a  faint  striking  from  one  of 
the  churches  in  the  by-streets,  a  modest  sound, 
as  if  the  clock  was  not  sure  whether  it  was  too 
early  or  not ;  then  from  another  quarter  would 
be  heard  a  more  confident  clock  striking  the 
hour  clearly  and  distinctly. 

When  they  were  quite  ready,  but  not  a  mo- 
ment before,  the  seven  bells  of  the  large  church 
on  the  square  would  chime  the  hour ;  after 
which,  at  a  respectful  interval  of  time,  the 
other  church  clocks  of  the  town  would  strike. 
After  the  lapse  of  three  or  four  minutes,  the 
sound  of  all  these  bells  seemed  to  wake  up  the 
stone  man  in  the  tower  of  the  town  building, 
and  he  struck  the  hour  with  his  hammer. 
When  this  had  been  done,  the  other  town- 
clocks  felt  at  liberty  to  strike,  and  they  did  so. 
And  when  every  sound  had  died  away,  so  that 
he  would  be  certain  to  be  heard  if  there  was 
any  one  awake  to  hear,  it  would  be  very  likely 
that  the  iron  donkey  would  kick  out  the  hour 
on  his  bell.  But  there  were  times  when  he 
kicked  before  any  of  the  clocks  began  to  strike. 

One  by  one  the  clocks  on  the  street  corners 
struck,  the  uptown  ones  first,  and  afterward 
those  near  the  river.    These  were  followed  by 


The  Clocks  of  Rondaine  55 

the  two  clocks  on  the  bridge,  the  one  at  the 
country  end  waiting  until  it  was  quite  sure  that 
the  one  at  the  town  end  had  finished.  Some- 
what later  would  be  heard  the  clock  of  Vou- 
gereau,  an  old  country-house  in  the  suburbs. 
This  clock,  a  very  large  one,  was  on  the  top  of 
a  great  square  stone  tower,  and  from  its  age  it 
had  acquired  a  habit  of  deliberation ;  and  when 
it  began  to  strike  people  were  very  apt  to  think 
that  it  was  one  o'clock,  until  after  an  interval 
another  stroke  would  tell  them  that  it  was  later 
or  earlier  than  that,  and  if  they  really  wanted 
to  know  what  hour  the  old  clock  was  striking 
they  must  give  themselves  time  enough  to  listen 
until  they  were  entirely  certain  that  it  had  fin- 
ished. 

The  very  last  clock  to  strike  in  Rondaine  was 
one  belonging  to  a  little  old  lady  with  white 
hair,  who  lived  in  a  little  white  house  in  one  of 
the  prettiest  and  cleanest  streets  in  the  town. 
Her  clock  was  in  a  little  white  tower  at  the 
corner  of  her  house,  and  was  the  only  strictly 
private  clock  which  was  in  the  habit  of  making 
itself  publicly  heard.  Long  after  every  other 
clock  had  struck,  and  when  there  was  every 
reason  to  believe  that  for  some  time  nothing  but 
half-hours  would  be  heard  in  Rondaine,  the  old 
lady's  clock  would  strike  quickly  and  with  a 


56  Fanciful  Tales 

tone  that  said,  "  I  know  I  am  right,  and  I  wish 
other  people  to  know  it" 

In  a  small  house  which  stood  at  a  corner  of 
two  streets  in  the  town  there  lived  a  young 
girl  named  Aria.  For  a  year  or  more  this 
young  girl  had  been  in  the  habit  of  waking  up 
very  early  in  the  morning,  sometimes  long  be- 
fore daylight,  and  it  had  become  a  habit  with 
her  to  lie  and  listen  to  the  clocks.  Her  room 
was  at  the  top  of  the  house,  and  one  of  its  win- 
dows opened  to  the  west  and  another  to  the 
south,  so  that  sounds  entered  from  different 
quarters.  Aria  liked  to  leave  these  windows 
open  so  that  the  sounds  of  the  clocks  might 
come  in. 

Aria  knew  every  clock  by  its  tone,  and  she 
always  made  it  a  point  to  lie  awake  until  she 
was  positively  sure  that  the  last  stroke  of  the 
clock  at  Vougereau  had  sounded ;  but  it  often 
happened  that  sleep  overcame  her  before  she 
heard  the  clock  of  the  little  old  lady  with  white 
hair.     It  was  so  very  long  to  wait  for  that ! 

It  was  not  because  she  wanted  to  know  the 
hour  that  Aria  used  to  lie  and  listen  to  the 
clocks.  She  could  tell  this  from  her  own  little 
clock  in  her  room.  This  little  clock,  which  had 
been  given  to  her  when  she  was  a  small  girl, 
not  only  struck  the  hours  and  half-hours  and 


The  Clocks  of  Rondaine  57 

quarter-hours,  but  there  was  attached  to  it  a 
very  pretty  contrivance  which  also  told  the 
time.  On  the  front  of  the  clock,  just  below  the 
dial,  was  a  sprig  of  a  rosebush  beautifully  made 
of  metal,  and  on  this,  just  after  the  hour  had 
sounded,  there  was  a  large  green  bud  ;  at  a 
quarter  past  the  hour  this  bud  opened  a  little, 
so  that  the  red  petals  could  be  seen  ;  fifteen 
minutes  later  it  was  a  half-blown  rose,  and  at  a 
quarter  of  an  hour  more  it  was  nearly  full 
blown ;  just  before  the  hour  the  rose  opened  to 
its  fullest  extent,  and  so  remained  until  the 
clock  had  finished  striking,  when  it  immediately 
shut  up  into  a  great  green  bud.  This  clock 
was  a  great  delight  to  Aria;  for  not  only  was 
it  a  very  pleasant  thing  to  watch  the  unfolding 
of  the  rose,  but  it  was  a  continual  satisfaction 
to  her  to  think  that  her  little  clock  always  told 
her  exactly  what  time  it  was,  no  matter  what 
the  other  clocks  of  Rondaine  might  say. 

Aria's  father  and  mother  were  thrifty,  indus- 
trious people,  who  were  very  fond  of  their 
daughter,  and  wished  her  to  grow  up  a  thought- 
ful, useful  woman.  In  the  very  early  morning, 
listening  to  the  clocks  of  Rondaine  or  waiting 
for  them,  Aria  did  a  great  deal  of  thinking ; 
and  it  so  happened,  on  the  morning  of  the  day 
before  Christmas,  when  the  stars  were  bright 


58  Fanciful  Tales 

and  the  air  frosty,  and  every  outside  sound 
very  clear  and  distinct,  that  Aria  began  to  think 
of  something  which  had  never  entered  her  mind 
before. 

"  How  in  the  world,"  she  said  to  herself,  "  do 
the  people  of  Rondaine  know  when  it  is  really 
Christmas  ?  Christmas  begins  as  soon  as  it  is 
twelve  o'clock  on  Christmas  Eve  ;  but  as  some 
of  the  people  depend  for  the  time  upon  one 
clock  and  some  upon  others,  a  great  many  of 
them  cannot  truly  know  when  Christmas  Day 
has  really  begun.  Even  some  of  the  church 
clocks  make  people  think  that  Christmas  haa 
come,  when  in  reality  it  is  yet  the  day  before 
And  not  one  of  them  strikes  at  the  right  time  \ 
As  for  that  iron  donkey,  I  believe  he  kicks 
whenever  he  feels  like  it.  And  yet  there  are 
people  who  go  by  him !  I  know  this,  for  they 
have  told  me  so.  But  the  little  old  lady  with 
white  hair  is  worse  off  than  anybody  else. 
Christmas  must  always  come  ever  so  long  be- 
fore she  knows  it." 

With  these  thoughts  on  her  mind,  Aria  could 
not  go  to  sleep  again.  She  heard  all  the  clocks 
strike,  and  lay  awake  until  her  own  little  clock 
told  her  that  she  ought  to  get  up.  During  this 
time  she  had  made  up  her  mind  what  she 
should  do.     There   was  yet   one  day  before 


The  Clocks  of  Rondaine  59 

Christmas ;  and  if  the  people  of  the  town  could 
be  made  to  see  in  what  a  deplorable  condition 
they  were  on  account  of  the  difference  in  their 
clocks,  they  might  have  time  to  set  the  matter 
right  so  that  all  the  clocks  should  strike  the 
correct  hour,  and  everybody  should  know  ex- 
actly when  Christmas  Day  began.  She  was 
sure  that  the  citizens  had  never  given  this 
matter  proper  thought ;  and  it  was  quite  natural 
that  such  should  be  the  case,  for  it  was  not 
every  one  who  was  in  the  habit  of  lying  awake 
in  the  very  early  morning ;  and  in  the  daytime, 
with  all  the  out-door  noises,  one  could  not 
hear  all  the  clocks  strike  in  Rondaine.  Aria, 
therefore,  thought  that  a  great  deal  depended 
upon  her,  who  knew  exactly  how  this  matter 
stood. 

When  she  went  down  to  breakfast  she  asked 
permission  of  her  mother  to  take  a  day's  holi- 
day. As  she  was  a  good  girl,  and  never  neg- 
lected either  her  lessons  or  her  tasks,  her 
mother  was  quite  willing  to  give  her  the  day 
before  Christmas  in  which  she  could  do  as  she 
pleased. 

The  day  was  cool,  but  the  sun  shone  brightly 
and  the  air  was  pleasant.  In  the  country  around 
about  Rondaine  Christmas-time  was  not  a  very 
cold  season.    Aria  put  on  a  warm  jacket  and  a 


60  Fanciful  Tales 

pretty  blue  hood,  and  started  out  gayly  to 
attend  to  the  business  in  hand. 

Everybody  in  Rondaine  knew  her  father  and 
mother,  and  a  great  many  of  them  knew  her, 
so  there  was  no  reason  why  she  should  be 
afraid  to  go  where  she  chose.  In  one  hand  she 
carried  a  small  covered  basket  in  which  she 
had  placed  her  rose  clock.  The  works  of  this 
little  clock  were  regulated  by  a  balance-wheel, 
like  those  of  a  watch,  and  therefore  it  could  be 
carried  about  without  stopping  it. 

The  first  place  she  visited  was  the  church  at 
which  she  and  her  parents  always  attended 
service.  It  was  a  small  building  in  a  little 
square  at  the  bottom  of  a  hill,  and,  to  reach  it, 
one  had  to  go  down  a  long  flight  of  stone  steps. 
When  she  entered  the  dimly  lighted  church, 
Aria  soon  saw  the  sacristan,  a  pleasant-faced 
little  old  man  whom  she  knew  very  well. 

"  Good-morning,  sir,"  said  she.  "  Do  you 
take  care  of  the  church  clock  ?  " 

The  sacristan  was  sweeping  the  stone  pave- 
ments of  the  church,  just  inside  the  door.  He 
stopped  and  leaned  upon  his  broom.  "  Yes, 
my  little  friend,"  he  said,  "  I  take  care  of  every- 
thing here  except  the  souls  of  the  people." 

"  Well,  then,"  said  Aria,  "  I  think  you  ought 
to  know  that  your  clock  is  eleven  minutes  too 


The  Clocks  of  Rondaine  61 

fast.     I  came  here  to  tell  you  that,  so  that  you 
might  change  it,  and  make  it  strike  properly." 

The  sacristan's  eyes  began  to  twinkle.  He 
was  a  man  of  merry  mood.  "  That  is  very  good 
of  you,  little  Aria;  very  good  indeed.  And, 
now  that  we  are  about  it,  isn't  there  something 
else  you  would  like  to  change?  What  do  you 
say  to  having  these  stone  pillars  put  to  one 
side,  so  that  they  may  be  out  of  the  way  of 
the  people  when  they  come  in  ?  Or  those  great 
beams  in  the  roof — they  might  be  turned  over, 
and  perhaps  we  might  find  that  the  upper  side 
would  look  fresher  than  this  lower  part,  which 
is  somewhat  time-stained,  as  you  see?  Or,  for 
the  matter  of  that,  what  do  you  say  to  having 
our  clock-tower  taken  down  and  set  out  there 
in  the  square  before  the  church  door?  Then 
short-sighted  people  could  see  the  time  much 
better,  don't  you  think?  Now  tell  me,  shall 
we  do  all  these  things  together,  wise  little 
friend?" 

A  tear  or  two  came  into  Aria's  eyes,  but  she 
made  no  answer. 

"  Good-morning,  sir,"  she  said,  and  went 
away. 

"  I  suppose,"  she  said  to  herself  as  she  ran  up 
the  stone  steps,  "  that  he  thought  it  would  be 
too  much  trouble  tc  climb  to  the  top  of  the 


62  Fanciful  Tales 

tower  to  set  the  clock  right.  But  that  was  no 
reason  why  he  should  make  fun  of  me.  I  don't 
like  him  as  much  as  I  used  to." 

The  next  church  to  which  Aria  went  was  a 
large  one,  and  it  was  some  time  before  she 
could  find  the  sacristan.  At  last  she  saw  him 
in  a  side  chapel  at  the  upper  end  of  the  church, 
engaged  in  dusting  some  old  books.  He  was 
a  large  man,  with  a  red  face,  and  he  turned 
around  quickly,  with  a  stern  expression,  as  she 
entered. 

"  Please,  sir,"  said  Aria,  "  I  came  to  tell  you 
that  your  church  clock  is  wrong.  It  strikes 
from  four  to  six  minutes  before  it  ought  to; 
sometimes  the  one  and  sometimes  the  other.  It 
should  be  changed  so  that  it  will  be  sure  to 
strike  at  the  right  time." 

The  face  of  the  sacristan  grew  redder  and 
twitched  visibly  at  her  remark. 

"  Do  you  know  what  I  wish  ? "  he  almost 
shouted  in  reply. 

"  No,  sir,"  answered  Aria. 

"  I  wish,"  he  said,  "  that  you  were  a  boy,  so 
that  I  might  take  you  by  the  collar  and  soundly 
cuff  your  ears,  for  coming  here  to  insult  an 
officer  of  the  church  in  the  midst  of  his  duties  ! 
But,  as  you  are  a  girl,  I  can  only  tell  you  to  go 
away  from  here  as  rapidly  and  as  quietly  as  you 


The  Clocks  of  Rondaine  6$ 

can,  or  I  shall  have  to  put  you  in  the  hands  of 
the  church  authorities ! " 

Aria  was  truly  frightened,  and  although  she 
did  not  run — for  she  knew  that  would  not  be 
proper  in  a  church — she  walked  as  fast  as  she 
could  into  the  outer  air. 

"  What  a  bad  man,"  she  then  said  to  herself, 
"  to  be  employed  in  a  church  !  It  surely  is  not 
known  what  sort  of  a  person  he  is,  or  he  would 
not  be  allowed  to  stay  there  a  day !  " 

Aria  thought  she  would  not  go  to  any  more 
churches  at  present,  for  she  did  not  know  what 
sort  of  sacristans  she  might  find  in  them. 

"  When  the  other  clocks  in  the  town  all  strike 
properly,"  she  thought,  "  it  is  most  likely  they 
will  see  for  themselves  that  their  clocks  are 
wrong,  and  they  will  have  them  changed." 

She  now  made  her  way  to  the  great  square 
of  the  town,  and  entered  the  building  at  the  top 
of  which  stood  the  stone  man  with  his  hammer. 
She  found  the  doorkeeper  in  a  little  room  by 
the  side  of  the  entrance.  She  knew  where  to 
go,  for  she  had  been  there  with  her  mother  to 
ask  permission  to  go  up  and  see  the  stone  man 
strike  the  hour  with  his  hammer,  and  the  stone 
woman  strike  the  half-hour  with  her  broom. 

The  doorkeeper  was  a  grave,  middle-aged 
man  with  spectacles ;  and,  remembering  what 


64  Fanciful  Tales 

had  just  happened,  Aria  thought  she  would 
be  careful  how  she  spoke  to  him. 

"  If  you  please,  sir,"  she  said,  with  a  courtesy, 
"  I  should  like  to  say  something  to  you.  And 
I  hope  you  will  not  be  offended  when  I  tell  you 
that  your  clock  is  not  quite  right.  Your  stone 
man  and  your  stone  woman  are  both  too 
slow ;  they  sometimes  strike  as  much  as  seven 
minutes  after  they  ought  to  strike." 

The  grave,  middle-aged  man  looked  steadily 
at  her  through  his  spectacles. 

"  I  thought,"  continued  Aria,  "  that  if  this 
should  be  made  known  to  you,  you  would  have 
the  works  of  the  stone  man  and  the  stone 
woman  altered  so  that  they  might  strike  at 
the  right  time.  They  can  be  heard  so  far,  you 
know,  that  it  is  very  necessary  they  should  not 
make  mistakes." 

"  Child,"  said  the  man,  with  his  spectacles 
still  steadily  fixed  on  her,  "  for  one  hundred 
and  fifty-seven  years  the  open  tower  on  this 
building  has  stood  there.  For  one  hundred 
and  fifty-seven  years  the  thunder  and  the  light- 
ning in  time  of  storm  have  roared  and  flashed 
around  it,  and  the  sun  in  time  of  fair  weather 
has  shone  upon  it.  In  that  century  and  a  half 
and  seven  years  men  and  women  have  lived 
and  have   died,  and   their   children   and  their 


The  Clocks  of  Rondaine  65 

grandchildren  and  their  great-grandchildren, 
and  even  the  children  of  these,  have  lived 
and  died  after  them.  Kings  and  queens  have 
passed  away,  one  after  another ;  and  all  things 
living  have  grown  old  and  died,  one  generation 
after  another,  many  times.  And  yet,  through 
all  these  years,  that  stone  man  and  that  stone 
woman  have  stood  there,  and  in  storm  and  in 
fair  weather,  by  daylight  or  in  the  darkness  of 
night,  they  have  struck  the  hours  and  the  half- 
hours.  Of  all  things  that  one  hundred  and 
fifty-seven  years  ago  were  able  to  lift  an  arm 
to  strike,  they  alone  are  left.  And  now  you,  a 
child  of  thirteen,  or  perhaps  fourteen  years, 
come  to  me  and  ask  me  to  change  that  which 
has  not  been  changed  for  a  century  and  a  half 
and  seven  years !  " 

Aria  could  answer  nothing  with  those  spec- 
tacles fixed  upon  her.  They  seemed  to  glare 
more  and  more  as  she  looked  at  them.  "  Good- 
morning,  sir,"  she  said,  dropping  a  courtesy 
as  she  moved  backward  toward  the  door. 
Reaching  it,  she  turned  and  hurried  into  the 
street. 

"  If  those  stone  people,"  she  thought,  "  have 

not  been  altered  in  all  these  years,  it  is  likely 

they  would  now  be  striking  two  or  three  hours 

out  of  the  way !     But  I  don't  know.     If  they 

5 


66  Fanciful  Tales 

kept  on  going  slow  for  more  than  a  century, 
they  must  have  come  around  to  the  right  hour 
sometimes.  But  they  will  have  to  strike  ever 
and  ever  so  much  longer  before  they  come 
around  there  again  !  " 

Aria  now  walked  on  until  she  came  to  a 
street  corner  where  a  cobbler  had  a  little  shop. 
In  the  angle  of  the  wall  of  the  house,  at  the 
height  of  the  second  story,  was  a  clock.  This 
cobbler  did  not  like  the  confined  air  and  poor 
light  of  his  shop,  and  whenever  the  weather 
allowed  he  always  worked  outside  on  the  side- 
walk. To-day,  although  it  was  winter,  the  sun 
shone  brightly  on  this  side  of  the  street,  and  he 
had  put  his  bench  outside,  close  to  his  door, 
and  was  sitting  there,  hard  at  work.  When 
Aria  stopped  before  him  he  looked  up  and 
said,  cheerfully : 

"  Good-morning,  Mistress  Aria.  Do  you 
want  them  half-soled,  or  heeled,  or  a  patch 
put  on  tie  toes  ?  " 

"  My  shoes  do  not  need  mending,"  said 
Aria.  ;  I  came  to  ask  you  if  you  could  tell 
me  who  has  charge  of  the  clock  at  this  cor- 
ner?" 

¥  I  can  easily  do  that,"  he  said,  "  for  I  am  the 
man.  I  am  paid  by  the  year,  for  winding  it  up 
and  keeping  it  in  order,  as  much  as  I  should 


rhe  Clocks  of  Rondaine  67 

get  for  putting  the  soles,  heels,  tops,  linings, 
and  buckles  on  a  pair  of  shoes." 

"  Which  means  making  them  out  and  out/* 
said  Aria. 

"  You  are  right,"  said  he,  "  and  the  pay  is 
not  great;  but  if  it  were  larger,  more  people 
might  want  it  and  I  might  lose  it;  and  if  it 
were  less,  how  could  I  afford  to  do  it  at  all  ? 
So  I  am  satisfied." 

"  But  you  ought  not  to  be  entirely  satisfied," 
said  Aria,  "  for  the  clock  does  not  keep  good 
time.  I  know  when  it  is  striking,  for  it  has  a 
very  jangling  sound,  and  it  is  the  most  irregular 
clock  in  Rondaine.  Sometimes  it  strikes  as 
much  as  twenty-five  minutes  after  the  hour,  and 
very  often  it  does  not  strike  at  all." 

The  cobbler  looked  up  at  her  with  a  smile. 
"I  am  sorry,"  he  said,  "that  it  has  a  jangling 
stroke,  but  the  fashioning  of  clocks  is  not  my 
trade,  and  I  could  not  mend  its  sound  with  awl, 
hammer,  or  waxed-end.  But  it  seems  to  me, 
my  good  maiden,  that  you  never  mended  a  pair 
of  shoes." 

"  No,  indeed  ! "  said  Aria ;  ;<  I  should  do  that 
even  worse  than  you  would  make  clocks." 

"  Never  having  mended  shoes,  then,"  said 
the  cobbler,  "  you  do  not  know  what  a  grievous 
thing  it  is  to  have  twelve  o'clock,  or  six  o'clock, 


68  Fanciful  Tales 

or  any  other  hour,  in  fact,  come  before  you  are 
ready  for  it.  Now,  I  don't  mind  telling  your 
because  I  know  you  are  too  good  to  spoil  the 
trade  of  a  hard-working  cobbler — and  shoe- 
maker too,  whenever  he  gets  the  chance  to  be 
one — that  when  I  have  promised  a  customer 
that  he  shall  have  his  shoes  or  his  boots  at  a 
certain  time  of  day,  and  that  time  is  drawing 
near,  and  the  end  of  the  job  is  still  somewhat 
distant,  then  do  I  skip  up  the  stairway  and  set 
back  the  hands  of  the  clock  according  to  the 
work  that  has  to  be  done.  And  when  my 
customer  comes  I  look  up  to  the  clock-face 
and  I  say  to  him,  '  Glad  to  see  you ! '  and 
then  he  will  look  up  at  the  clock  and  will 
say,  l  Yes,  I  am  a  little  too  soon ;  '  and  then, 
as  likely  as  not,  he  will  sit  down  on  the  door- 
step here  by  me  and  talk  entertainingly ;  and 
it  may  happen  that  he  will  sit  there  without 
grumbling  for  many  minutes  after  the  clock 
has  pointed  out  the  hour  at  which  the  shoes 
were  promised. 

"  Sometimes,  when  I  have  been  much  belated 
in  beginning  a  job,  I  stop  the  clock  altogether, 
for  you  can  well  see  for  yourself  that  it  would 
not  do  to  have  it  strike  eleven  when  it  is  truly 
twelve.  And  so,  if  my  man  be  willing  to  sit 
down,  and  our  talk  be  very  entertaining,  the 


The  Clocks  of  Rondaine  69 

clock  being  above  him  where  he  cannot  see  it 
without  stepping  outward  from  the  house,  he 
may  not  notice  that  it  is  stopped.  This  once 
served  me  very  well,  for  an  old  gentleman, 
over-testy  and  over-punctual,  once  came  to  me 
for  his  shoes,  and  looking  up  at  the  clock, 
which  I  had  prepared  for  him,  exclaimed, '  Bless 
me !  I  am  much  too  early  ! '  And  he  sat  down 
by  me  for  three-quarters  of  an  hour,  in  which 
time  I  persuaded  him  that  his  shoes  were  far 
too  much  worn  to  be  worth  mending  any  more, 
and  that  he  should  have  a  new  pair,  which, 
afterward,  I  made." 

"I  do  not  believe  it  is  right  for  you  to  do 
chat,"  said  Aria ;  "  but  even  if  you  think  so, 
there  is  no  reason  why  your  clock  should  go 
wrong  at  night,  when  so  many  people  can  hear 
it  because  of  the  stillness." 

"  Ah,  me ! "  said  the  cobbler,  "  I  do  not  object 
to  the  clock  being  as  right  as  you  please  in  the 
night ;  but  when  my  day's  work  is  done,  I  am 
in  such  a  hurry  to  go  home  to  my  supper  that 
I  often  forget  to  put  the  clock  right,  or  to  set 
it  going  if  it  is  stopped.  But  so  many  things 
stop  at  night — such  as  the  day  itself — and  so 
many  things  then  go  wrong — such  as  the  ways 
of  evil-minded  people — that  I  think  you  truly 
ought  to  pardon  my  poor  clock." 


jo  Fanciful  Tales 

"  Then  you  will  not  consent,"  said  Aria,  u  to 
make  it  go  right  ?  " 

"  I  will  do  that  with  all  cheerfulness,"  an- 
swered the  cobbler,  pulling  out  a  pair  of  waxed- 
ends  with  a  great  jerk,  "as  soon  as  I  can  make 
myself  go  right.  The  most  important  thing 
should  always  be  done  first ;  and,  surely,  I  am 
more  important  than  a  clock ! "  And  he  smiled 
with  great  good-humor. 

Aria  knew  that  it  would  be  of  no  use  to  stand 
there  any  longer  and  talk  with  this  cobbler. 
Turning  to  go,  she  said : 

"  When  I  bring  you  shoes  to  mend,  you  shall 
^nish  them  by  my  clock,  and  not  by  yours." 

"  That  will  I,  my  good  little  Aria,"  said  the 
cobbler,  heartily.  "  They  shall  be  finished  by 
any  clock  in  town,  and  five  minutes  before  the 
hour,  or  no  payment." 

Aria  now  walked  on  until  she  came  to  the 
bridge  over  the  river.  It  was  a  long,  covered 
bridge,  and  by  the  entrance  sat  the  bridge- 
keeper. 

"  Do  you  know,  sir,"  said  she,  "  that  the  clock 
at  this  end  of  your  bridge  does  not  keep  the 
same  time  as  the  one  at  the  other  end  ?  They 
are  not  so  very  different,  but  I  have  noticed 
that  this  one  is  always  done  striking  at  least 
two  minutes  before  the  other  begins." 


The  Clocks  of  Rondaine  Ji 

The  bridge-keeper  looked  at  her  with  one 
eye,  which  was  all  he  had. 

"  You  are  as  wrong  as  anybody  can  be,"  said 
he.  "  I  do  not  say  anything  about  the  striking, 
because  my  ears  are  not  now  good  enough  to 
hear  the  clock  at  the  other  end  when  I  am  near 
this  one  ;  but  I  know  they  both  keep  the  same 
time.  I  have  often  looked  at  this  clock  and 
have  then  walked  to  the  other  end  of  the  bridge, 
and  have  found  that  the  clock  there  was  ex- 
actly like  it." 

Aria  looked  at  the  poor  old  man,  whose  legs 
were  warmly  swaddled  on  account  of  his  rheu- 
matism, and  said : 

"  But  it  must  take  you  a  good  while  to  walk 
to  the  other  end  of  the  bridge." 

"  Out  upon  you ! "  cried  the  bridge-keeper. 
"  I  am  not  so  old  as  that  yet !  I  can  walk  there 
in  no  time  ! " 

Aria  now  crossed  the  bridge  and  went  a 
short  distance  along  a  country  road  until  she 
came  to  the  great  stone  house  known  as  Vou- 
gereau.  This  belonged  to  a  rich  family  who 
seldom  came  there,  and  the  place  was  in  charge 
of  an  elderly  man  who  was  the  brother  of  Aria's 
mother.  When  his  niece  was  shown  into  a 
room  on  the  ground  floor,  which  served  for  his 
parlor  and  his  office,  he  was  very  glad  to  see 


J2  Fanciful  Tales 

her ;  and  while  Aria  was  having  something  to 
eat  and  drink  after  her  walk,  the  two  had  a 
pleasant  chat. 

"  I  came  this  time,  Uncle  Anton,"  she  said, 
"  not  only  to  see  you,  but  to  tell  you  that  the 
great  clock  in  your  tower  does  not  keep  good 
time." 

Uncle  Anton  looked  at  her  a  little  surprised. 

"  How  do  you  know  that,  my  dear  ?  "  he  said. 

Then  Aria  told  him  how  she  had  lain  awake 
in  the  early  morning,  and  had  heard  the  strik- 
ing of  the  different  clocks.  "If  you  wish  to 
make  it  right,"  said  she,  "  I  can  give  you  the 
proper  time,  for  I  have  brought  my  own  little 
clock  with  me." 

She  was  about  to  take  her  rose-clock  out  of 
her  basket,  when  her  uncle  motioned  to  her 
not  to  do  so. 

"  Let  me  tell  you  something,"  said  he.  "  The 
altering  of  the  time  of  day,  which  you  speak  of 
so  lightly,  is  a  very  serious  matter,  which 
should  be  considered  with  all  gravity.  If  you 
set  back  a  clock,  even  as  little  as  ten  minutes, 
you  add  that  much  to  the  time  that  has  passed. 
The  hour  which  has  just  gone  by  has  been 
made  seventy  minutes  long.  Now,  no  human 
being  has  the  right  to  add  anything  to  the  past, 
nor  to  make  hours  longer  than  they  were  orig* 


The  Clocks  of  Rondaine  73 

inally  made.  And,  on  the  other  hand,  if  you 
set  a  clock  forward  even  so  little  as  ten  min- 
utes, you  take  away  that  much  from  the  future, 
and  you  make  the  coming  hour  only  fifty  min- 
utes long.  Now,  no  human  being  has  a  right 
to  take  anything  away  from  the  future,  or  to 
make  the  hours  shorter  than  they  were  intended 
to  be.  I  desire,  my  dear  niece,  that  you  will 
earnestly  think  over  what  I  have  said,  and  I  am 
sure  that  you  will  then  see  for  yourself  how 
unwise  it  would  be  to  trifle  with  the  length  of 
the  hours  which  make  up  our  day.  And  now* 
Aria,  let  us  talk  of  other  things." 

And  so  tney  talked  of  other  things  until  Aria 
thought  it  was  time  to  go.  She  saw  there  was 
something  wrong  in  her  uncle's  reasoning,  al- 
though she  could  not  tell  exactly  what  it  was, 
and  thinking  about  it,  she  slowly  returned  to 
the  town.  As  she  approached  the  house  of  the 
little  old  lady  with  white  hair,  she  concluded  to 
stop  and  speak  to  her  about  her  clock.  "  She 
will  surely  be  willing  to  alter  that,"  said  Aria, 
"  for  it  is  so  very  much  out  of  the  way." 

The  old  lady  knew  who  Aria  was,  and  re- 
ceived her  very  kindly;  but  when  she  heard 
why  the  young  girl  had  come  to  her,  she  flew 
into  a  passion. 

"  Never,  since  I  was  born,"  she  said  "  have  I 


74  Fanciful  Tales 

been  spoken  to  like  this!  My  great-grand- 
father lived  in  this  house  before  me  ;  that  clock 
was  good  enough  for  him !  My  grandfather 
lived  in  this  house  before  me ;  that  clock  was 
good  enough  for  him  !  My  father  and  mother 
lived  in  this  house  before  me  ;  that  clock  was 
good  enough  for  them!  I  was  born  in  this 
house,  have  always  lived  in  it,  and  expect  to  die 
in  it ;  that  clock  is  good  enough  for  me !  I 
heard  its  strokes  when  I  was  but  a  little  child, 
I  hope  to  hear  them  at  my  last  hour ;  and  sooner 
than  raise  my  hand  against  the  clock  of  my  an- 
cestors, and  the  clock  of  my  whole  life,  I  would 
cut  off  that  hand  !  " 

Some  tears  came  into  Aria's  eyes;  she  was  a 
little  frightened.  "  I  hope  you  will  pardon  me, 
good  madam,"  she  said,  "  for,  truly,  I  did  not 
wish  to  offend  you.  Nor  did  I  think  that  your 
clock  is  not  a  good  one.  I  only  meant  that  you 
should  make  it  better ;  it  is  nearly  an  hour  out 
of  the  way." 

The  sight  of  Aria's  tears  cooled  the  anger  of 
the  little  old  lady  with  white  hair.  "  Child," 
she  said,  "  you  do  not  know  what  you  are  talk- 
ing about,  and  I  forgive  you.  But  remember 
this :  never  ask  persons  as  old  as  I  am  to  alter 
the  principles  which  have  always  made  clear 
to  them   what  they  should  do,  or  the  clocks 


The  Clocks  of  Rondaine  75 

which  have  always  told  them  when  they  should 
do  it." 

And,  kissing  Aria,  she  bade  her  good-by, 

"  Principles  may  last  a  great  while  without 
altering,"  thought  Aria,  as  she  went  away,  "  but 
I  am  sure  it  is  very  different  with  clocks." 

The  poor  girl  now  felt  a  good  deal  dis- 
couraged. 

"The  people  don't  seem  to  care  whether 
their  clocks  are  right  or  not,"  she  said  to  her- 
self, "  and  if  they  don't  care,  I  am  sure  it  is  of 
no  use  for  me  to  tell  them  about  it.  If  even 
one  clock  could  be  made  to  go  properly,  it 
might  help  to  make  the  people  of  Rondaine 
care  to  know  exactly  what  time  it  is.  Now, 
there  is  that  iron  donkey.  If  he  would  but 
kick  at  the  right  hour  it  would  be  an  excellent 
thing,  for  he  kicks  so  hard  that  he  is  heard  all 
over  the  town." 

Determined  to  make  this  one  more  effort, 
Aria  walked  quickly  to  the  town-building,  at 
the  top  of  which  was  the  clock  with  the  iron 
donkey.  This  building  was  a  sort  of  museum ; 
it  had  a  great  many  curious  things  in  it,  and  it 
was  in  charge  of  a  very  ingenious  man,  who 
was  learned  and  skilful  in  various  ways. 

When  Aria  had  informed  the  superintendent 
of  the  museum  why  she  had  come  to  him,  he 


j6  Fanciful  Tales 

did  not  laugh  at  her  nor  did  he  get  angry. 
He  was  accustomed  to  giving  earnest  consider- 
ation to  matters  of  this  sort,  and  he  listened 
attentively  to  all  that  Aria  had  to  say. 

"  You  must  know,"  he  said,  "  that  our  iron 
donkey  is  a  very  complicated  piece  of  mechan- 
ism. Not  only  must  he  kick  out  the  hours,  but 
five  minutes  before  doing  so  he  must  turn  his 
head  around  and  look  at  the  bell  behind  him  ; 
and  then,  when  he  has  done  kicking,  he  must 
put  his  head  back  into  its  former  position.  All 
this  action  requires  a  great  many  wheels  and 
cogs  and  springs  and  levers,  and  these  cannot 
be  made  to  move  with  absolute  regularity. 
When  it  is  cold,  some  of  his  works  contract ; 
and  when  it  is  warm,  they  expand ;  and  there 
are  other  reasons  why  he  is  very  likely  to  lose 
or  gain  time.  At  noon,  on  every  bright  day,  I 
set  him  right,  being  able  to  get  the  correct  time 
from  a  sun-dial  which  stands  in  the  court-yard. 
But  his  works — which  I  am  sorry  to  say  are 
not  well  made — are  sure  to  get  a  great  deal 
out  of  the  way  before  I  set  him  again." 

"  Then,  if  there  are  several  cloudy  or  rainy 
days  together,  he  goes  very  wrong  indeed," 
said  Aria. 

"  Yes,  he  truly  does,"  replied  the  superintend- 
ent, "and  I  am  sorry  for  it.     But  there  is  no 


The  Clocks  of  Rondame  yj 

way  to  help  it  except  for  me  to  make  him  all 
over  again  at  my  own  expense,  and  that  is 
something  I  cannot  afford  to  do.  The  clock 
belongs  to  the  town,  and  I  am  sure  the  citizens 
will  not  be  willing  to  spend  the  money  neces- 
sary for  a  new  donkey-clock ;  for,  so  far  as  I 
know,  every  person  but  yourself  is  perfectly 
satisfied  with  this  one." 

"  I  suppose  so,'*  said  Aria,  with  a  sigh ; 
"  but  it  really  is  a  great  pity  that  every  striking- 
clock  in  Rondaine  should  be  wrong !  " 

"  But  how  do  you  know  they  are  all  wrong  ?  " 
asked  the  superintendent. 

"  Oh,  that  is  easy  enough,"  said  Aria.  "  When 
I  lie  awake  in  the  early  morning,  when  all  else 
is  very  still,  I  listen  to  their  striking,  and  then 
I  look  at  my  own  rose-clock  to  see  what  time 
it  really  is." 

"  Your  rose-clock  ? "  said  the  superintend- 
ent. 

"  This  is  it,"  said  Aria,  opening  her  basket 
and  taking  out  her  little  clock. 

The  superintendent  took  it  into  his  hands 
and  looked  at  it  attentively,  both  outside  and 
inside.  And  then,  still  holding  it,  he  stepped 
out  into  the  court-yard.  When  in  a  few 
moments  he  returned,  he  said : 

"  I  have  compared  your  clock  with  my  sun- 


yS  Fanciful  Tales 

dial,  and  find  that  it  is  ten  minutes  slow.  I  also 
see  that,  like  the  donkey-clock,  its  works  are 
not  adjusted  in  such  a  way  as  to  be  unaffected 
by  heat  and  cold." 

"  My — clock  —  ten  —  minutes  —  slow  ! "  ex- 
claimed Aria,  with  wide-open  eyes. 

"  Yes,"  said  the  superintendent,  "  that  is  the 
case  to-day,  and  on  some  days  it  is,  probably, 
a  great  deal  too  fast.  Such  a  clock  as  this — 
which  is  a  very  ingenious  and  beautiful  one — 
ought  frequently  to  be  compared  with  a  sun- 
dial or  other  correct  time-keeper,  and  set  to 
the  proper  hour.  I  see  it  requires  a  peculiar 
key  with  which  to  set  it.  Have  you  brought 
this  with  you  ?  " 

"  No,  sir,"  said  Aria ;  "  I  did  not  suppose  it 
would  be  needed." 

"  Well,  then,"  said  the  superintendent,  "  you 
can  set  it  forward  ten  minutes  when  you  reach 
home  ;  and  if  to-morrow  morning  you  compare 
the  other  clocks  with  it,  I  think  you  will 
find  that  not  all  of  them  are  wrong." 

Aria  sat  quiet  for  a  moment,  and  then  she 
said :  "  I  think  I  shall  not  care  any  more  to 
compare  the  clocks  of  Rondaine  with  my  little 
rose-clock.  If  the  people  are  satisfied  with 
their  own  clocks,  whether  they  are  fast  or  slow, 
and  do  not  care  to  know  exactly  when  Christ- 


The  Clocks  of  Rondaine  79 

mas  Day  begins,  I  can  do  nobody  any  good  by 
listening  to  the  different  strikings  and  then 
looking  at  my  own  little  clock,  with  a  night-lamp 
by  it." 

"  Especially,"  said  the  superintendent,  with  a 
smile,  "  when  you  are  not  sure  that  your  rose- 
clock  is  right.  But  if  you  bring  here  your 
little  clock  and  your  key  on  any  day  when  the 
sun  is  shining,  I  will  set  it  to  the  time  shadowed 
on  the  sun-dial,  or  show  you  how  to  do  it  your- 
self." 

"  Thank  you  very  much,"  said  Aria,  and  she 
took  her  leave. 

As  she  walked  home,  she  lifted  the  lid  of  her 
basket  and  looked  at  her  little  rose-clock.  "  To 
:hink  of  it ! "  she  said.  "  That  you  should  be 
sometimes  too  fast  and  sometimes  too  slow ! 
And,  worse  than  that,  to  think  that  some  of 
the  other  clocks  have  been  right  and  you  have 
been  wrong !  But  I  do  not  feel  like  altering 
you  to-day.  If  you  go  fast  sometimes,  and 
slow  sometimes,  you  must  be  right  sometimes, 
and  one  of  these  days,  when  I  take  you  to  be 
compared  with  the  sun-dial,  perhaps  you  will 
not  have  to  be  altered  so  much." 

Aria  went  to  bed  that  night  quite  tired  with 
her  long  walks,  and  when  she  awoke  it  was 
broad  daylight.    "  I  do  not  know,"  she  said  to 


80  fanciful  Tales 

herself,  "  exactly  when  Christmas  began,  but  I 
am  very  sure  that  the  happy  day  is  here." 

"  Do  you  lie  awake  in  the  morning  as  much 
as  you  used  to  ?  "  asked  Aria's  mother,  a  few 
weeks  after  the  Christmas  holidays. 

"  No,  mother  ear  -aid  Aria  ;  "  I  now  sleep 
with  one  of  my  windows  shut,  and  I  am  no 
longer  awakened  by  that  chilly  feeling  which 
used  to  come  to  me  in  the  early  morning,  when 
I  would  draw  the  bed-covers  close  about  me 
and  think  how  wrong  were  the  clocks  of 
Rondaine." 

And  the  little  rose-clock  never  went  to  be 
compared  with  th  sun-dial.  "  Perhaps  you 
are  right  now,"  Aria  would  say  to  her  clock 
each  day  when  the  sun  shone,  "  and  I  will  not 
take  you  until  some  time  when  I  feel  very  sure 
that  you  are  wrong." 


THE  GRIFFIN  AND  THE  MINOR 
CANON 

Over  the  great  door  of  an  old,  old  church 
which  stood  in  a  quiet  town  of  a  far-away  land 
there  was  carved  in  stone  the  figure  of  a  large 
griffin.  The  old-time  sculptor  had  done  his 
work  with  great  care,  but  the  image  he  had 
made  was  not  a  pleasant  one  to  look  at.  It  had 
a  large  head,  with  enormous  open  mouth  and 
savage  teeth ;  from  its  back  arose  great  wings, 
armed  with  sharp  hooks  and  prongs  ;  it  had 
stout  legs  in  front,  with  projecting  claws  ;  but 
there  were  no  legs  behind, — the  body  running 
out  into  a  long  and  powerful  tail,  finished  off  at 
the  end  with  a  barbed  point.  This  tail  was 
coiled  up  under  him,  the  end  sticking  up  just 
back  of  his  wings. 

The  sculptor,  or  the  people  who  had  ordered 
this  stone  figure,  had  evidently  been  very  much 
pleased  with  it,  for  little  copies  of  it,  also  in 
stone,  had  been  placed  here  and  there  along 
the  sides  of  the  church,  not  very  far  from  the 
6 


82  Fanciful  Tales 

ground,  so  that  people  could  easily  look  at  them, 
and  ponder  on  their  curious  forms.  There 
were  a  great  many  other  sculptures  on  the  out- 
side of  this  church — saints,  martyrs,  grotesque 
heads  of  men,  beasts,  and  birds,  as  well  as  those 
of  other  creatures  which  cannot  be  named,  be- 
cause nobody  knows  exactly  what  they  were ; 
but  none  were  so  curious  and  interesting  as  the 
great  griffin  over  the  door,  and  the  little  griffins 
on  the  sides  of  the  church. 

A  long,  long  distance  from  the  town,  in  the 
midst  of  dreadful  wilds  scarcely  known  to  man, 
there  dwelt  the  Griffin  whose  image  had  been 
put  up  over  the  church-door.  In  some  way  or 
Other,  the  old-time  sculptor  had  seen  him  and 
afterward,  to  the  best  of  his  memory,  had  copied 
his  figure  in  stone. 

The  Griffin  had  never  known  this,  until, 
hundreds  of  years  afterward,  he  heard  from  a 
bird,  from  a  wild  animal,  or  in  some  manner 
which  it  is  not  now  easy  to  find  out,  that  there 
was  a  likeness  of  him  on  the  old  church  in  the 
distant  town. 

Now,  this  Griffin  had  no  idea  how  he  looked. 
He  had  never  seen  a  mirror,  and  the  streams 
where  he  lived  were  so  turbulent  and  violent 
that  a  quiet  piece  of  water,  which  would  reflect 
the  image  of  any  thing  looking  into  it,  could 


The  Griffin  and  the  Minor  Canon     8$ 

not  be  found.  Being,  as  far  as  could  be  known, 
the  very  last  of  his  race,  he  had  never  seen  an- 
other griffin.  Therefore  it  was  that,  when  he 
heard  of  this  stone  image  of  himself,  he  became 
very  anxious  to  know  what  he  looked  like,  and 
at  last  he  determined  to  go  to  the  old  church, 
and  see  for  himself  what  manner  of  being  he 
was. 

So  he  started  off  from  the  dreadful  wilds, 
and  flew  on  and  on  until  he  came  to  the  countries 
inhabited  by  men,  where  his  appearance  in  the 
air  created  great  consternation  ;  but  he  alighted 
nowhere,  keeping  up  a  steady  flight  until  he 
reached  the  suburbs  of  the  town  which  had  his 
image  on  its  church.  Here,  late  in  the  after- 
noon, he  alighted  in  a  green  meadow  by  the 
side  of  a  brook,  and  stretched  himself  on  the 
grass  to  rest.  His  great  wings  were  tired,  for 
he  had  not  made  such  a  long  flight  in  a  century, 
or  more. 

The  news  of  his  coming  spread  quickly  over 
the  town,  and  the  people,  frightened  nearly  out 
of  their  wits  by  the  arrival  of  so  strange  a 
visitor,  fled  into  their  houses,  and  shut  them- 
selves up.  The  Griffin  called  loudly  for  some 
one  to  come  to  him ;  but  the  more  he  called,  the 
more  afraid  the  people  were  to  show  them- 
selves.    At  length  he  saw  two  laborers  hurry- 


84  Fanciful  Tales 

ing  to  their  homes  through  the  fields,  and  in 
a  terrible  voice  he  commanded  them  to  stop. 
Not  daring  to  disobey,  the  men  stood,  trem- 
bling. 

"  What  is  the  matter  with  you  all  ?  "  cried 
the  Griffin.  "  Is  there  not  a  man  in  your  town 
who  is  brave  enough  to  speak  to  me  ?  " 

"  I  think,"  said  one  of  the  laborers,  his  voice 
shaking  so  that  his  words  could  hardly  be 
understood,  "  that — perhaps — the  Minor  Canon 
— would  come." 

"  Go,  call  him,  then !  "  said  the  Griffin ;  "  I 
want  to  see  him." 

The  Minor  Canon,  who  was  an  assistant  in 
the  old  church,  had  just  finished  the  afternoon 
services,  and  was  coming  out  of  a  side  door, 
with  three  aged  women  who  had  formed  tht, 
week-day  congregation.  He  was  a  young  man 
of  a  kind  disposition,  and  very  anxious  to  do 
good  to  the  people  of  the  town.  Apart  from 
his  duties  in  the  church,  where  he  conducted 
services  every  week-day,  he  visited  the  sick 
and  the  poor,  counselled  and  assisted  persons 
who  were  in  trouble,  and  taught  a  school  com- 
posed entirely  of  the  bad  children  in  the  town 
with  whom  nobody  else  would  have  anything 
to  do.  Whenever  the  people  wanted  some- 
thing difficult  done  for  them,  they  always  went 


The  Griffin  and  the  Minor   Canon     85 

to  the  Minor  Canon.  Thus  it  was  that  the 
laborer  thought  of  the  young  priest  when  he 
found  that  someone  must  come  and  speak  to 
the  Griffin. 

The  Minor  Canon  had  not  heard  of  the 
strange  event,  which  was  known  to  the  whole 
town  except  himself  and  the  three  old  women, 
and  when  he  was  informed  of  it,  and  was  told 
that  the  Griffin  had  asked  to  see  him,  he  was 
greatly  amazed  and  frightened. 

"  Me !  "  he  exclaimed.  "  He  has  never  heard 
of  me  !     What  should  he  want  with  me  f  " 

"  Oh  !  you  must  go  instantly  !  "  cried  the  two 
men.  "  He  is  very  angry  now  because  he  has 
been  kept  waiting  so  long ;  and  nobody  knows 
what  may  happen  if  you  don't  hurry  to  him." 

The  poor  Minor  Canon  would  rather  have 
had  his  hand  cut  off  than  go  out  to  meet  an 
angry  Griffin  ;  but  he  felt  that  it  was  his  duty 
to  go,  for  it  would  be  a  woful  thing  if  injury 
should  come  to  the  people  of  the  town  because 
he  was  not  brave  enough  to  obey  the  summons 
of  the  Griffin.  So,  pale  and  frightened,  he 
started  off. 

"  Well,"  said  the  Griffin,  as  soon  as  the  young 
man  came  near,  "  I  am  glad  to  see  that  there  is 
someone  who  has  the  courage  to  come  to 
me. 


86  Fanciful  Tales 

The  Minor  Canon  did  not  feel  very  brave, 
but  he  bowed  his  head. 

"  Is  this  the  town"  said  the  Griffin,  "  where 
there  is  a  church  with  a  likeness  of  myself  over 
one  of  the  doors  ?  " 

The  Minor  Canon  looked  at  the  frightful  creak 
ure  before  him  and  saw  that  it  was,  without 
doubt,  exactly  like  the  stone  image  on  the 
church.     "  Yes,"  he  said,  "  you  are  right." 

"  Well,  then,"  said  the  Griffin,  "  will  you  take 
me  to  it  ?     I  wish  very  much  to  see  it." 

The  Minor  Canon  instantly  thought  that  if 
the  Griffin  entered  the  town  without  the  people's 
knowing  what  he  came  for,  some  of  them 
would  probably  be  frightened  to  death,  and  so 
he  sought  to  gain  time  to  prepare  their  minds. 

"  It  is  growing  dark,  now,"  he  said,  very 
much  afraid,  as  he  spoke,  that  his  words  might 
enrage  the  Griffin,  "  and  objects  on  the  front  of 
the  church  cannot  be  seen  clearly.  It  will  be 
better  to  wait  until  morning,  if  you  wish  to  get 
a  good  view  of  the  stone  image  of  yourself." 

"  That  will  suit  me  very  well,"  said  the  Grif- 
fin. "  I  see  you  are  a  man  of  good  sense.  I  am 
tired,  and  I  will  take  a  nap  here  on  this  soft 
grass,  while  I  cool  my  tail  in  the  little  stream 
that  runs  near  me.  The  end  of  my  tail  gets 
red-hot  when  I  am  angry  or  excited,  and  it  is 


The  Griffin  and  the  Minor   Canon     87 

quite  warm  now.  So  you  may  go ;  but  be  sure 
and  come  early  to-morrow  morning,  and  show 
me  the  way  to  the  church." 

The  Minor  Canon  was  glad  enough  to  take 
his  leave,  and  hurried  into  the  town.  In  front 
of  the  church  he  found  a  great  many  peo- 
ple assembled  to  hear  his  report  of  his  talk  with 
the  Griffin.  When  they  found  that  he  had  not 
come  to  spread  ruin,  but  simply  to  see  his  stony 
likeness  on  the  church,  they  showed  neither 
relief  nor  gratification,  but  began  to  upbraid  the 
Minor  Canon  for  consenting  to  conduct  the 
creature  into  the  town. 

"  What  could  I  do  ?  "  cried  the  young  man. 
"  If  I  should  not  bring  him  he  would  come  him- 
self and,  perhaps,  end  by  setting  fire  to  the  town 
with  his  red-hot  tail." 

Still  the  people  were  not  satisfied,  and  a  great 
many  plans  were  proposed  to  prevent  the  Grif- 
fin from  coming  into  the  town.  Some  elderly 
persons  urged  that  the  young  men  should  go 
out  and  kill  him  ;  but  the  young  men  scoffed 
at  such  a  ridiculous  idea. 

Then  some  one  said  that  it  would  be  a  good 
thing  to  destroy  the  stone  image  so  that  the 
Griffin  would  have  no  excuse  for  entering  the 
town;  and  this  plan  was  received  with  such 
favor  that  many  of  the  people  ran  for  hammers, 


88  Fanciful  Tales 

chisels,  and  crowbars,  with  which  to  tear  down 
and  break  up  the  stone  griffin.  But  the  Minor 
Canon  resisted  this  plan  with  all  the  strength 
of  his  mind  and  body.  He  assured  the  people 
that  this  action  would  enrage  the  Griffin  beyond 
measure,  for  it  would  be  impossible  to  conceal 
from  him  that  his  image  had  been  destroyed 
during  the  night.  But  the  people  were  so  de- 
termined to  break  up  the  stone  griffin  that  the 
Minor  Canon  saw  that  there  was  nothing  for 
him  to  do  but  to  stay  there  and  protect  it.  All 
night  he  walked  up  and  down  in  front  of  the 
church-door,  keeping  away  the  men  who 
brought  ladders,  by  which  they  might  mount 
to  the  great  stone  griffin,  and  knock  it  to  pieces 
with  their  hammers  and  crowbars.  After  many 
hours  the  people  were  obliged  to  give  up  their 
attempts,  and  went  home  to  sleep ;  but  the 
Minor  Canon  remained  at  his  post  till  early 
morning,  and  then  he  hurried  away  to  the  field 
where  he  had  left  the  Griffin. 

The  monster  had  just  awakened,  and  rising 
to  his  forelegs  and  shaking  himself  he  said 
that  he  was  ready  to  go  into  the  town.  The 
Minor  Canon,  therefore,  walked  bade,  the 
Griffin  flying  slowly  through  the  air,  at  a  short 
distance  above  the  head  of  his  guide.  Not  a 
person  was  to  be  seen  in  the  streets,  and  they 


The  Griffin  and  the  Minor  Canon     89 

went  directly  to  the  front  of  the  church,  where 
the  Minor  Canon  pointed  out  the  stone  griffin. 

The  real  Griffin  settled  down  in  the  little 
square  before  the  church  and  gazed  earnestly 
at  his  sculptured  likeness.  For  a  long  time 
he  looked  at  it.  First  he  put  his  head  on 
one  side,  and  then  he  put  it  on  the  other  ;  then 
he  shut  his  right  eye  and  gazed  with  his  left, 
after  which  he  shut  his  left  eye  and  gazed  with 
his  right.  Then  he  moved  a  little  to  one  side 
and  looked  at  the  image,  then  he  moved  the 
other  way.  After  a  while  he  said  to  the  Minor 
Canon,  who  had  been  standing  by  all  this 
time  : 

"  It  is,  it  must  be,  an  excellent  likeness  !  That 
breadth  between  the  eyes,  that  expansive  fore- 
head, those  massive  jaws !  I  feel  that  it  must 
resemble  me.  If  there  is  any  fault  to  find  with 
it,  it  is  that  the  neck  seems  a  little  stiff.  But 
that  is  nothing.  It  is  an  admirable  likeness — 
admirable !  " 

The  Griffin  sat  looking  at  his  image  all  the 
morning  and  all  the  afternoon.  The  Minor  Canon 
had  been  afraid  to  go  away  and  leave  him,  and 
had  hoped  all  through  the  day  that  he  would 
soon  be  satisfied  with  his  inspection  and  fly 
away  home.  But  by  evening  the  poor  young 
man  was  very  tired,  and  felt  that  he  must  eat 


9<d  Fanciful  Tales 

and  sleep.  He  frankly  said  this  to  the  Griffin, 
and  asked  him  if  he  would  not  like  something" 
to  eat.  He  said  this  because  he  felt  obliged 
in  politeness  to  do  so ;  but  as  soon  as  he  had 
spoken  the  words,  he  was  seized  with  dread 
lest  the  monster  should  demand  half  a  dozen 
babies,  or  some  tempting  repast  of  that  kind. 

"  Oh,  no,"  said  the  Griffin  ;  "  I  never  eat 
between  the  equinoxes.  At  the  vernal  and  at 
the  autumnal  equinox  I  take  a  good  meal,  and 
that  lasts  me  for  half  a  year.  I  am  extremely 
regular  in  my  habits,  and  do  not  think  it 
healthful  to  eat  at  odd  times.  But  if  you  need 
food,  go  and  get  it,  and  I  will  return  to  the 
soft  grass  where  I  slept  last  night  and  take 
another  nap." 

The  next  day  the  Griffin  came  again  to  the 
little  square  before  the  church,  and  remained 
there  until  evening,  steadfastly  regarding  the 
stone  griffin  over  the  door.  The  Minor  Canon 
came  once  or  twice  to  look  at  him,  and  the  Griffin 
seemed  very  glad  to  see  him  ;  but  the  young 
clergyman  could  not  stay  as  he  had  done  before, 
for  he  had  many  duties  to  perform.  Nobody 
went  to  the  church,  but  the  people  came  to 
the  Minor  Canon's  house,  and  anxiously  asked 
him  how  long  the  Griffin  was  going  to  stay. 

"  I  do  not  know,"  he  answered,  "  but  I  think 


The  Griffin  and  the  Minor  Canon     91 

he  will  soon  be  satisfied  with    regarding    his 
stone  likeness,  and  then  he  will  go  away." 

But  the  Griffin  did  not  go  away.  Morning 
after  morning  he  came  to  the  church ;  but  after 
a  time  he  did  not  stay  there  all  day.  He  seemed 
to  have  taken  a  great  fancy  to  the  Minor  Canon, 
and  followed  him  about  as  he  worked.  He 
would  wait  for  him  at  the  side  door  of  the 
church,  for  the  Minor  Canon  held  services 
every  day,  morning  and  evening,  though  no- 
body came  now.  "  If  any  one  should  come," 
he  said  to  himself,  "  I  must  be  found  at  my 
post."  When  the  young  man  came  out,  the 
Griffin  would  accompany  him  in  his  visits  to 
the  sick  and  the  poor,  and  would  often  look 
into  the  windows  of  the  school-house  where 
the  Minor  Canon  was  teaching  his  unruly 
scholars.  All  the  other  schools  were  closed, 
but  the  parents  of  the  Minor  Canon's  scholars 
forced  them  to  go  to  school,  because  they  were 
so  bad  they  could  not  endure  them  all  day  at 
home — Griffin  or  no  Griffin.  But  it  must  be 
said  they  generally  behaved  very  well  when 
that  great  monster  sat  up  on  his  tail  and  looked 
in  at  the  school-room  window. 

When  it  was  found  that  the  Griffin  showed 
no  sign  of  going  away,  all  the  people  who  were 
able  to  do  so  left  the  town.    The  canons  and1 


92  Fanciful  Tales 

the  higher  officers  of  the  church  had  fled  away 
during  the  first  day  of  the  Griffin's  visit,  leav- 
ing  behind  only  the  Minor  Canon  and  some  of 
the  men  who  opened  the  doors  and  swept  the 
church.  All  the  citizens  who  could  afford  it 
shut  up  their  houses  and  travelled  to  distant 
parts,  and  only  the  working-people  and  the 
poor  were  left  behind.  After  some  days  these 
ventured  to  go  about  and  attend  to  their  busi- 
ness, for  if  they  did  not  work  they  would 
starve.  They  were  getting  a  little  used  to  see- 
ing the  Griffin  ;  and  having  been  told  that  he 
did  not  eat  between  equinoxes,  they  did  not 
feel  so  much  afraid  of  him  as  before. 

Day  by  day  the  Griffin  became  more  and 
more  attached  to  the  Minor  Canon.  He  kept 
near  him  a  great  part  of  the  time,  and  often 
spent  the  night  in  front  of  the  little  house 
where  the  young  clergyman  lived  alone.  This 
strange  companionship  was  often  burdensome 
to  the  Minor  Canon ;  but,  on  the  other  hand, 
he  could  not  deny  that  he  derived  a  great  deal 
of  benefit  and  instruction  from  it.  The  Griffin 
had  lived  for  hundreds  of  years,  and  had  seen 
much,  and  he  told  the  Minor  Canon  many 
wonderful  things. 

"  It  is  like  reading  an  old  book,"  said  the 
young  clergyman  to  himself ;  "  but  how  many 


The  Griffin  and  the  Minor  Canon     93 

books  I  would  have  had  to  read  before  I  would 
have  found  out  what  the  Griffin  has  told  me 
about  the  earth,  the  air,  the  water,  about  miner- 
als, and  metals,  and  growing  things,  and  all 
the  wonders  of  the  world ! " 

Thus  the  summer  went  on,  and  drew  toward 
its  close.  And  now  the  people  of  the  town 
began  to  be  very  much  troubled  again. 

"  It  will  not  be  long,"  they  said,  "  before  the 
autumnal  equinox  is  here,  and  then  that  mon- 
ster will  want  to  eat.  He  will  be  dreadfully 
hungry,  for  he  has  taken  so  much  exercise 
since  his  last  meal.  He  will  devour  our  chil- 
dren. Without  doubt,  he  will  eat  them  all. 
What  is  to  be  done  ?  " 

To  this  question  no  one  could  give  an  an- 
swer, but  all  agreed  that  the  Griffin  must  not  be 
allowed  to  remain  until  the  approaching  equi- 
nox. After  talking  over  the  matter  a  great  deal, 
a  crowd  of  the  people  went  to  the  Minor  Canon 
at  a  time  when  the  Griffin  was  not  with  him. 

"  It  is  all  your  fault,"  they  said,  "  that  that 
monster  is  among  us.  You  brought  him  here, 
and  you  ought  to  see  that  he  goes  away.  It  is 
only  on  your  account  that  he  stays  here  at  all ; 
for,  although  he  visits  his  image  every  day,  he 
is  with  you  the  greater  part  of  the  time.  If 
you  were  not  here,  he  would  not  stay.    It  is 


94  Fanciful  Tales 

your  duty  to  go  away,  and  then  he  will  follow 
you,  and  we  shall  be  free  from  the  dreadful 
danger  which  hangs  over  us." 

"  Go  away  ! "  cried  the  Minor  Canon,  greatly 
grieved  at  being  spoken  to  in  such  a  way. 
"  Where  shall  I  go  ?  If  I  go  to  some  other 
town,  shall  I  not  take  this  trouble  there? 
Have  I  a  right  to  do  that  ?  " 

"  No,"  said  the  people,  "  you  must  not  go  to 
any  other  town.  There  is  no  town  far  enough 
away.  You  must  go  to  the  dreadful  wilds 
where  the  Griffin  lives ;  and  then  he  will  fol- 
low you  and  stay  there." 

They  did  not  say  whether  or  not  they  ex- 
pected the  Minor  Canon  to  stay  there  also,  and 
he  did  not  ask  them  anything  about  it.  He 
bowed  his  head,  and  went  into  his  house  to 
think.  The  more  he  thought,  the  more  clear 
it  became  to  his  mind  that  it  was  his  duty  to 
go  away,  and  thus  free  the  town  from  the  pres- 
ence of  the  Griffin. 

That  evening  he  packed  a  leathern  bag  full 
'of  bread  and  meat,  and  early  the  next  morning 
he  set  out  on  his  journey  to  the  dreadful  wilds. 
It  was  a  long,  weary,  and  doleful  journey,  espe- 
cially after  he  had  gone  beyond  the  habitations 
of  men ;  but  the  Minor  Canon  kept  on  bravely, 
and  never  faltered. 


The  Griffin  and  the  Minor  Canon    95 

The  way  was  longer  than  he  had  expected, 
and  his  provisions  soon  grew  so  scanty  that  he 
was  obliged  to  eat  but  a  little  every  day ;  but 
he  kept  up  his  courage,  and  pressed  on,  and, 
after  many  days  of  toilsome  travel,  he  reached 
the  dreadful  wilds. 

When  the  Griffin  found  tnat  the  Minor 
Canon  had  left  the  town  he  seemed  sorry,  but 
showed  no  desire  to  go  and  look  for  him. 
After  a  few  days  had  passed  he  became  much 
annoyed,  and  asked  some  of  the  people  where 
the  Minor  Canon  had  gone.  But,  although 
the  citizens  had  been  so  anxious  that  the 
young  clergyman  should  go  to  the  dreadful 
wilds,  thinking  that  the  Griffin  would  immedi- 
ately follow  him,  they  were  now  afraid  to  men- 
tion the  Minor  Canon's  destination,  for  the 
monster  seemed  angry  already,  and  if  he 
should  suspect  their  trick  he  would,  doubtless, 
become  very  much  enraged.  So  every  one  said 
he  did  not  know,  and  the  Griffin  wandered 
about  disconsolate.  One  morning  he  looked 
into  the  Minor  Canon's  school-house,  which 
was  always  empty  now,  and  thought  that  it 
was  a  shame  that  everything  should  suffer  on 
account  of  the  young  man's  absence. 

"  It  does  not  matter  so  much  about  the 
church,"  he  said,  "  for  nobody  went  there  ;  but 


96  i     Fanciful  Tales 

it  is  a  pity  about  the  school.  I  think  I  will 
teach  it  myself  until  he  returns." 

It  was  the  hour  for  opening  the  school, 
and  the  Griffin  went  inside  and  pulled  the 
rope  which  rang  the  school-bell.  Some  of  the 
children  who  heard  the  bell  ran  in  to  see  what 
was  the  matter,  supposing  it  to  be  a  joke  of 
one  of  their  companions;  but  when  they  saw 
the  Griffin  they  stood  astonished  and  scared. 

"  Go  tell  the  other  scholars,"  said  the  monster, 
"  that  school  is  about  to  open,  and  that  if  they 
are  not  all  here  in  ten  minutes  I  shall  come 
after  them." 

In  seven  minutes  every  scholar  was  in  place. 

Never  was  seen  such  an  orderly  school.  Not 
a  boy  or  girl  moved  or  uttered  a  whisper. 
The  Griffin  climbed  into  the  master's  seat,  his 
wide  wings  spread  on  each  side  of  him,  because 
he  could  not  lean  back  in  his  chair  while  they 
stuck  out  behind,  and  his  great  tail  coiled 
around,  in  front  of  the  desk,  the  barbed  end 
sticking  up,  ready  to  tap  any  boy  or  girl  who 
might  misbehave. 

The  Griffin  now  addressed  the  scholars,  tell- 
ing them  that  he  intended  to  teach  them  while 
their  master  was  away.  In  speaking  he  tried 
to  imitate,  as  far  as  possible,  the  mild  and 
gentle  tones  of  the  Minor  Canon ;  but  it  must 


The  Griffin  and  the  Minor  Canon     97 

be  admitted  that  in  this  he  was  not  very  success- 
ful. He  had  paid  a  good  deal  of  attention  to 
the  studies  of  the  school,  and  he  determined 
not  to  try  to  teach  them  anything  new,  but  to 
review  them  in  what  they  had  been  studying ; 
so  he  called  up  the  various  classes,  and  ques- 
tioned them  upon  their  previous  lessons.  The 
children  racked  their  brains  to  remember  what 
they  had  learned.  They  were  so  afraid  of  the 
Griffin's  displeasure  that  they  recited  as  they 
had  never  recited  before.  One  of  the  boys,  far 
down  in  his  class,  answered  so  well  that  the 
Griffin  was  astonished. 

"  I  should  think  you  would  be  at  the  head," 
said  he.  "  I  am  sure  you  have  never  been  in 
the  habit  of  reciting  so  well.     Why  is  this  ?  " 

"  Because  I  did  not  choose  to  take  the 
trouble,"  said  the  boy,  trembling  in  his  boots. 
He  felt  obliged  to  speak  the  truth,  for  all  the 
children  thought  that  the  great  eyes  of  the 
Griffin  could  see  right  through  them,  and  that 
he  would  know  when  they  told  a  falsehood. 

"You  ought  to  be  ashamed  of  yourself,"  said 
the  Griffin.  "  Go  down  to  the  very  tail  of  the 
class ;  and  if  you  are  not  at  the  head  in  two 
days,  I  shall  know  the  reason  why." 

The  next  afternoon  this  boy  was  Number  One. 

It  was  astonishing  how  much  these  children 
7 


98  Fanciful  Tales 

now  learned  of  what  they  had  been  studying. 
It  was  as  if  they  had  been  educated  over  again* 
The  Griffin  used  no  severity  toward  them,  but 
there  was  a  look  about  him  which  made  them 
unwilling  to  go  to  bed  until  they  were  sure 
they  knew  their  lessons  for  the  next  day. 

The  Griffin  now  thought  that  he  ought  to 
visit  the  sick  and  the  poor ;  and  he  began  to  go 
about  the  town  for  this  purpose.  The  effect 
upon  the  sick  was  miraculous.  All,  except 
those  who  were  very  ill  indeed,  jumped  from 
their  beds  when  they  heard  he  was  coming,  and 
declared  themselves  quite  well.  To  those  who 
could  not  get  up  he  gave  herbs  and  roots, 
which  none  of  them  had  ever  before  thought  of 
as  medicines,  but  which  the  Griffin  had  seen 
used  in  various  parts  of  the  world ;  and  most 
of  them  recovered.  But,  for  all  that,  they 
afterward  said  that,  no  matter  what  happened 
to  them,  they  hoped  that  they  should  never 
again  have  such  a  doctor  coming  to  their  bed- 
sides, feeling  their  pulses  and  looking  at  their 
tongues. 

As  for  the  poor,  they  seemed  to  have  utterly 
disappeared.  All  those  who  had  depended 
upon  charity  for  their  daily  bread  were  now  at 
work  in  some  way  or  other ;  many  of  them  of- 
fering to  do  odd  jobs  for  their  neighbors  just 


The  Griffin  and  the  Minor  Canon    99 

for  the  sake  of  their  meals — a  thing  which  be* 
fore  had  been  seldom  heard  of  in  the  town. 
The  Griffin  could  find  no  one  who  needed  his 
assistance. 

The  summer  had  now  passed,  and  the  au- 
tumnal equinox  was  rapidly  approaching.  The 
citizens  were  in  a  state  of  great  alarm  and 
anxiety.  The  Griffin  showed  no  signs  of  going 
away,  but  seemed  to  have  settled  himself  per- 
manently among  them.  In  a  short  time  the 
day  for  his  semi-annual  meal  would  arrive,  and 
then  what  would  happen?  The  monster  would 
certainly  be  very  hungry,  and  would  devour 
\11  their  children. 

Now  they  greatly  regretted  and  lamented 
that  they  had  sent  away  the  Minor  Canon ;  he 
was  the  only  one  on  whom  they  could  have 
depended  in  this  trouble,  for  he  could  talk 
freely  with  the  Griffin,  and  so  find  out  what 
could  be  done.  But  it  would  not  do  to  be  in- 
active. Some  step  must  be  taken  immediately » 
A  meeting  of  the  citizens  was  called,  and  two 
old  men  were  appointed  to  go  and  talk  to  the 
Griffin.  They  were  instructed  to  offer  to  pre- 
pare a  splendid  dinner  for  him  on  equinox 
day — one  which  would  entirely  satisfy  his  hun- 
ger. They  would  offer  him  the  fattest  mutton, 
the  most  tender  beef,  fish,  and  game  of  various 


ioo  Fanciful  Tales 

sorts,  and  anything  of  the  kind  that  he  migh\ 
fancy.  If  none  of  these  suited,  they  were  to 
mention  that  there  was  an  orphan  asylum  in 
the  next  town. 

"  Anything  would  be  better,"  said  the  citi- 
zens, "than  to  have  our  dear  children  de- 
voured." 

The  old  men  went  to  the  Griffin ;  but  their 
propositions  were  not  received  with  favor. 

"From  what  I  have  seen  of  the  people  of 
this  town,"  said  the  monster,  "  I  do  not  think  I 
could  relish  anything  which  was  prepared  by 
them.  They  appear  to  be  all  cowards,  and, 
therefore,  mean  and  selfish.  As  for  eating  one 
of  them,  old  or  young,  I  could  not  think  of  it 
for  a  moment.  In  fact,  there  was  only  one 
creature  in  the  whole  place  for  whom  I  could 
have  had  any  appetite,  and  that  is  the  Minor 
Canon,  who  has  gone  away.  He  was  brave, 
and  good,  and  honest,  and  I  think  I  should 
have  relished  him." 

"  Ah ! "  said  one  of  the  old  men  very  po- 
litely, "  in  that  case  I  wish  we  had  not  sent  him 
to  the  dreadful  wilds  ! " 

"  What !  "  cried  the  Griffin.  "  What  do  you 
mean  ?  Explain  instantly  what  you  are  talking 
about!" 

The  old  man,  terribly  frightened  at  what  he 


The  Griffin  and  the  Minor  Canon     101 

had  said,  was  obliged  to  tell  how  the  Minor 
Canon  had  been  sent  away  by  the  people,  in 
the  hope  that  the  Griffin  might  be  induced  to 
follow  him. 

When  the  monster  heard  this  he  became 
furiously  angry.  He  dashed  away  from  the  old 
men,  and,  spreading  his  wings,  flew  backward 
and  forward  over  the  town.  He  was  so  much 
excited  that  his  tail  became  red-hot,  and  glowed 
like  a  meteor  against  the  evening  sky.  When 
at  last  he  settled  down  in  the  little  field  where 
he  usually  rested,  and  thrust  his  tail  into  the 
brook,  the  steam  arose  like  a  cloud,  and  the 
water  of  the  stream  ran  hot  through  the  town. 
The  citizens  were  greatly  frightened,  and  bit- 
terly blamed  the  old  man  for  telling  about  the 
Minor  Canon* 

"  It  is  plain,"  they  said,  "  that  the  GriCn  in- 
tended  at  last  to  go  and  look  for  him,  and  we 
should  have  been  saved.  Now  who  can  tell 
what  misery  you  have  brought  upon  us." 

The  Griffin  did. not  remain  long  in  the  little 
field.  As  soon  as  his  tail  was  cool  he  flew  to 
the  town-hall  and  rang  the  bell.  The  citizens 
knew  that  they  were  expected  to  come  there ; 
and  although  they  were  afraid  to  go,  they  were 
still  more  afraid  to  stay  away  ;  and  they  crowd- 
ed into  the  hall.    The  Griffin  was  on  the  plat- 


102  Fanciful  Tales 

form  at  one  end,  flapping  his  wings  and  walk- 
ing up  and  down,  and  the  end  of  his  tail  was 
still  so  warm  that  it  slightly  scorched  the 
boards  as  he  dragged  it  after  him. 

When  everybody  who  was  able  to  come  was 
there,  the  Griffin  stood  still  and  addressed  the 
meeting. 

"  I  have  had  a  very  low  opinion  of  you,"  he 
said,  "  ever  since  I  discovered  what  cowards 
you  are,  but  I  had  no  idea  that  you  were  so 
ungrateful,  selfish,  and  cruel  as  I  now  find 
you  to  be.  Here  was  your  Minor  Canon,  who 
labored  day  and  night  for  your  good,  and 
thought  of  nothing  else  but  how  he  might  ben- 
efit you  and  make  you  happy  ;  and  as  soon  as 
you  imagine  yourselves  threatened  with  a  dan- 
ger— for  well  I  know  you  are  dreadfully  afraid 
of  me — you  send  him  off,  caring  not  whether  he 
returns  or  perishes,  hoping  thereby  to  save 
yourselves.  Now,  I  had  conceived  a  great  lik- 
ing for  that  young  man,  and  had  intended,  in  a 
day  c_  two,  to  go  and  look  him  up.  But  I  have 
changed  my  mind  about  him.  I  shall  go  and 
find  him,  but  I  shall  send  him  back  here  to  live 
among  you,  and  I  intend  that  he  shall  enjoy 
the  reward  of  his  labor  and  his  sacrifices. 

"  Go,  some  of  you,  to  the  officers  of  the 
church,  who  so  cowardly  ran  away  when  I  first 


The  Griffin  and  the  Minor  Canon     103 

came  here,  and  tell  them  never  to  return  to  this 
town  under  penalty  of  death.  And  if,  when 
your  Minor  Canon  comes  back  to  you,  you  do 
not  bow  yourselves  before  him,  put  him  in  the 
highest  place  among  you,  and  serve  and  honor 
him  all  his  life,  beware  of  my  terrible  ven- 
geance !  There  were  only  two  good  things  in 
this  town :  the  Minor  Canon  and  the  stone  im- 
age of  myself  over  your  church-door.  One  of 
these  you  have  sent  away,  and  the  other  I  shall 
carry  away  myself." 

With  these  words  he  dismissed  the  meeting, 
and  it  was  time,  for  the  end  of  his  tail  had  be- 
come so  hot  that  there  was  danger  of  its  setting 
fire  to  the  building. 

The  next  morning  the  Griffin  came  to  the 
church,  and  tearing  the  stone  image  of  himself 
from  its  fastenings  over  the  great  door,  he 
grasped  it  with  his  powerful  forelegs  and  flew 
up  into  the  air.  Then,  after  hovering  over  the 
town  for  a  moment,  he  gave  his  tail  an  angry 
shake  and  took  up  his  flight  to  the  dreadful 
wilds.  When  he  reached  this  desolate  region, 
he  set  the  stone  griffin  upon  a  ledge  of  a  rock 
which  rose  in  front  of  the  dismal  cave  he  called 
his  home.  There  the  image  occupied  a  position 
somewhat  similar  to  that  it  had  had  over  the 
church-door :  and  the  Griffin,  panting  with  the 


104  Fanciful  Tales 

exertion  of  carrying  such  an  enormous  load  to 
*  so  great  a  distance,  lay  down  upon  the  ground 
and  regarded  it  with  much  satisfaction.  When 
he  felt  somewhat  rested  he  went  to  look  for  the 
Minor  Canon,  He  found  the  young  man,  weak 
and  half-starved,  lying  under  the  shadow  of  a 
rock.  After  picking  him  up  and  carrying  him 
to  his  cave,  the  Griffin  flew  away  to  a  distant 
marsh,  where  he  procured  some  roots  and  herbs 
which  he  well  knew  were  strengthening  and 
beneficial  to  man,  though  he  had  never  tasted 
them  himself.  After  eating  these  the  Minor 
Canon  was  greatly  revived,  and  sat  up  and 
listened  while  the  Griffin  told  him  what  had 
happened  in  the  town. 

"  Do  you  know,"  said  the  monster,  when  he 
had  finished,  "  that  I  have  had,  and  still  have,  a 
great  liking  for  you  ?  " 

"  I  am  very  glad  to  hear  it,"  said  the  Minor 
Canon,  with  his  usual  politeness. 

"  I  am  not  at  all  sure  that  you  would  be," 
said  the  Griffin,  "  if  you  thoroughly  understood 
the  state  of  the  case ;  but  we  will  not  consider 
that  now.  If  some  things  were  different,  other 
things  would  be  otherwise.  I  have  been  so  en- 
raged by  discovering  the  manner  in  which  you 
have  been  treated  that  I  have  determined  that 
you  shall  at  last  enjoy  the  rewards  and  honors 


The  Griffin  and  the  Minor  Canon     105 

to  which  you  are  entitled.  Lie  down  and  have 
a  good  sleep,  and  then  I  will  take  you  back  to 
the  town." 

As  he  heard  these  words,  a  look  of  trouble 
came  over  the  young  man's  face. 

"  You  need  not  give  yourself  any  anxiety," 
said  the  Griffin,  "  about  my  return  to  the  town. 
I  shall  not  remain  there.  Now  that  I  have  that 
admirable  likeness  of  myself  in  front  of  my 
cave,  where  I  can  sit  at  my  leisure,  and  gaze 
upon  its  noble  features,  I  have  no  wish  to  see 
that  abode  of  cowardly  and  selfish  people." 

The  Minor  Canon,  relieved  from  his  fears, 
lay  back,  and  dropped  into  a  doze  ;  and  when 
he  was  sound  asleep  the  Griffin  took  him  up, 
and  carried  him  back  to  the  town.  He  arrived 
just  before  daybreak,  and,  putting  the  young 
man  gently  on  the  grass  in  the  little  field  where 
he  himself  used  to  rest,  the  monster,  without 
having  been  seen  by  any  of  the  people,  flew 
back  to  his  home. 

When  the  Minor  Canon  made  his  appearance 
in  the  morning  among  the  citizens,  the  enthu- 
siasm and  cordiality  with  which  he  was  received 
were  truly  wonderful.  He  was  taken  to  a 
house  which  had  been  occupied  by  one  of  the 
banished  high  officers  of  the  place,  and  every- 
one was  anxious  to  do  all  that  could  be  done  for 


106  Fanciful  Tales 

his  health  and  comfort  The  people  crowded 
into  the  church  when  he  held  services,  so  that 
the  three  old  women  who  used  to  be  his  week- 
day congregation  could  not  get  to  the  best 
seats,  which  they  had  always  been  in  the  habit 
of  taking  ;  and  the  parents  of  the  bad  children 
determined  to  reform  them  at  home,  in  order 
that  he  might  be  spared  the  trouble  of  keeping 
up  his  former  school.  The  Minor  Canon  was 
appointed  to  the  highest  office  of  the  old  church, 
and  before  he  died  he  became  a  bishop. 

During  the  first  years  after  his  return  from 
the  dreadful  wilds  the  people  of  the  town 
looked  up  to  him  as  a  man  to  whom  they  were 
bound  to  do  honor  and  reverence ;  but  they 
often,  also,  looked  up  to  the  sky  to  see  if  there 
were  any  signs  of  the  Griffin  coming  back. 
However,  in  the  course  of  time,  they  learned  to 
honor  and  reverence  their  former  Minor  Canon 
without  the  fear  of  being  punished  if  they  did 
not  do  so. 

But  they  need  never  have  been  afraid  of 
the  Griffin.  The  autumnal  equinox  day  came 
round,  and  the  monster  ate  nothing.  If  he 
could  not  have  the  Minor  Canon,  he  did  not 
care  for  anything.  So,  lying  down,  with  his 
eyes  fixed  upon  the  great  stone  griffin,  he  grad- 
ually declined,  and  died.     It  was  a  good  thing 


The  Griffin  and  the  Minor  Canon     107 

for  some  of  the  people  of  the  town  that  they 
did  not  know  this. 

If  you  should  ever  visit  the  old  town,  you 
would  still  see  the  little  griffins  on  the  sides  of 
the  church ;  but  the  great  stone  griffin  that  was 
over  the  door  is  gone. 


THE  CHRISTMAS  TRUANTS 

Christmas  was  coming,  a  long  time  ago,  and 
the  boys  in  a  certain  far-away  school  were  talk- 
ing and  thinking  about  it.  Eleven  of  these 
youngsters,  who  were  all  great  friends,  and 
generally  kept  together,  whether  at  work  or 
play,  held  a  secret  meeting,  at  which  they  re- 
solved that  they  were  tired  of  the  ordinary  ways 
of  spending  Christmas. 

"We  are  bored  to  death/'  said  one  of  the 
older  boys,  "  with  Christmas  trees,  with  Christ- 
mas games,  with  Christmas  carols,  and  with 
the  hanging-up  of  stockings  on  Christmas  Eve. 
Such  things  may  do  very  well  for  children,  but 
we  have  grown  out  of  them." 

"  That's  true !  "  cried  the  others.  "  We've 
grown  out  of  that  kind  of  nonsense." 

"  Yes,  sir !  "  exclaimed  the  smallest  boy  of  all, 
who  was  generally  known  as  Tomtit.  "  We've 
grown  out  of  that." 

"  Of  course,"  said  the  biggest  boy,  who  was 
sailed  by  his  companions  Old  Pluck,  because 


THEY   WERE   MARCHED   AWAY   TO   THE  ROBBER'S    CASTLE. 


The  Christmas   Truants  109 

he  had  never  been  found  to  be  afraid  of  any- 
thing, "there  will  be  this  Christmas  childish- 
ness at  the  school,  just  as  there  has  been  al- 
ways ;  and  I  propose  that,  instead  of  staying 
here  and  submitting  to  it,  we  run  away,  and 
have  a  Christmas  to  suit  ourselves." 

"  Hurrah  !  "  cried  the  other  boys.  "  That's 
what  we  shall  do.  Have  a  Christmas  to  suit 
ourselves." 

Having  made  up  their  minds  to  this,  these 
eleven  boys,  on  the  afternoon  of  the  next  day 
but  one  to  Christmas,  ran  away  from  school, 
in  order  that  they  might  find  a  place  where 
they  would  be  free  to  celebrate  the  great  holi- 
day in  whatever  way  they  pleased.  They 
walked  as  fast  as  they  could,  little  Tomtit  keep- 
ing up  bravely  in  the  rear,  although  he  was 
obliged  to  run  almost  as  much  as  he  walked, 
until  they  were  at  a  long  distance  from  the 
school.  Night  was  now  coming  on,  and  Old 
Pluck  called  a  halt. 

"  Boys,"  said  he,  "  we  will  camp  at  the  edge 
of  that  forest,  and  those  of  you  who  have 
brought  bows  and  arrows  had  better  look  about 
and  see  if  you  can't  shoot  some  birds  and  rabbits 
for  our  supper.  The  unarmed  members  must 
gather  wood  to  make  a  camp-fire.  But  if  you 
are  tired,  Tomtit,  you  needn't  do  anything." 


no  Fanciful  Tales 

"  Tired  !  "  exclaimed  the  little  fellow,  stand, 
ing  up  very  straight  and  throwing  out  his 
chest ;  "  I  should  like  to  know  why  I  should 
be  tired.     I'll  go  and  bring  some  logs.'' 

Tomtit  was  very  anxious  to  be  considered 
just  as  strong  and  active  as  the  other  boys. 
Every  morning  he  used  to  get  one  of  his  com- 
panions to  feel  the  muscles  of  his  arms,  to  see 
if  they  had  not  increased  in  size  since  the  day 
before. 

The  camp-fire  was  burning  brightly  when 
the  boys  with  the  bows  and  arrows  returned, 
stating  that  they  had  found  it  rather  too  late 
in  the  day  for  game,  and  that  it  would  be  better 
to  postpone  the  shooting  of  birds  and  rabbits 
till  the  next  morning.  Old  Pluck  then  asked 
the  members  of  his  little  company  what  pro- 
visions they  had  brought  with  them  ;  and  it  was 
found  that  no  one  except  Tomtit  had  thought 
of  bringing  anything.  He  had  in  his  coat 
pocket  a  luncheon  of  bread  and  meat.  It  was 
thereupon  ordered  that  Tomtit's  luncheon 
should  be  divided  into  eleven  portions,  and 
the  little  fellow  was  given  a  knife  with  which 
to  cut  it  up. 

It  was  at  this  time  that  there  came  through 
the  forest  a  band  of  robbers — five  men  and  a 
chief.    These  men,  on  their  way  to  their  castle, 


The  Christmas   Truants  in 

had  been  talking  about  the  approach  of  Christ- 
mas. 

"  I  am  getting  very  tired,"  said  the  chief, 
"of  the  wild  revelries  with  which  on  great 
occasions  we  make  our  castle  ring.  It  would 
be  a  most  agreeable  relief,  methinks,  if  we 
could  celebrate  the  coming  Christmas  as  ordi- 
nary people  do.  The  trouble  is  we  don't  know 
how." 

"  You  speak  well,"  replied  one  of  his  follow- 
ers. "  We  would  be  glad  enough  to  have  the 
ordinary  Christmas  festivities  if  we  did  but 
know  how  such  things  are  managed." 

The  conversation  was  cut  short  at  this  point 
by  the  discovery  of  a  camp-fire  at  the  edge  of 
the  wood.  Instantly  every  robber  crouched 
close  to  the  ground,  and  crept  silently  to  the 
spot  where  the  boys  were  gathered  around 
Tomtit,  watching  him  as  he  cut  up  his 
luncheon. 

In  a  few  moments  the  chief  gave  a  whistle, 
and  then  the  robbers  rushed  out,  and  each  of 
the  men  seized  two  of  the  larger  boys,  while 
the  chief  stooped  down  and  grasped  Tomtit 
by  the  collar.  Some  of  the  boys  kicked  and 
scuffled  a  great  deal ;  but  this  was  of  no  use, 
and  they  were  all  marched  away  to  the  rob- 
bers' castle,  little  Tomtit  feeling  very  proud 


112  Fanciful  Tales 

that  it  took  a  whole  man  to  hold  him  by  the 
collar. 

When  they  reached  the  castle  the  boys  were 
shut  up  in  a  large  room,  where  they  were  soon 
provided  with  a  plentiful  supper.  Having  fin- 
ished their  meal,  they  were  conducted  to  the 
great  hall  of  the  castle,  where  the  robber  chiet 
sat  in  his  chair  of  state,  a  huge  fire  blazing  upon 
the  hearth,  while  suits  of  armor,  glittering 
weapons,  and  trophies  of  many  kinds  were  hung 
upon  the  walls. 

The  boys  were  now  ordered  to  tell  their 
story ;  and  when  Old  Pluck  had  finished  it,  the 
chief  addressed  his  captives  thus  :  "  I  am  sure 
that  you  young  fellows  could  never  have 
imagined  the  pleasure  you  were  going  to  give 
to  me  when  you  determined  to  run  away  from 
school  at  this  happy  season. 

"  My  men  and  myself  have  a  fancy  for  a 
Christmas  like  that  of  other  people.  We  want  a 
Christmas  tree,  Christmas  carols  and  games, 
and  all  that  sort  of  festivity.  We  know  nothing 
about  these  things  ourselves,  and  were  wonder- 
ing how  we  could  manage  to  have  the  kind  of 
Christmas  we  want.  But  now  that  we  have  you 
boys  with  us,  it  will  all  be  simple  and  easy 
enough.  You  shall  celebrate  Christmas  for  us 
in  the  manner  to  which  you  have  always  been 


The  Christmas   Truants  113 

accustomed.  We  will  provide  you  with 
everything  that  is  necessary,  and  we  will  have 
a  good  old  school-and-home  Christmas.  You 
shall  even  hang  up  your  stockings,  and  I  will 
see  to  it  that  Santa  Claus  for  the  first  time  visits 
this  castle.  And  now,  my  fine  fellows,  to  bed 
with  you,  and  to-morrow  we  will  all  go  to  work 
to  prepare  for  a  good  old-fashioned  Christ- 
mas." 

The  boys  were  conducted  to  a  large  upper 
room,  where  they  found  eleven  mattresses 
spread  out  upon  the  floor.  They  threw  them- 
selves upon  their  beds ;  but  not  one  of  them 
could  close  his  eyes  through  thinking  of  the 
doleful  plight  which  they  were  in.  They  had 
run  away  to  get  rid  of  the  tiresome  old  Christ- 
mas doings,  and  now  they  were  to  go  through 
all  those  very  things  just  to  please  a  band  of 
robbers,  The  thought  of  it  was  insupportable, 
and  for  an  hour  or  two  each  boy  rolled  and 
moaned  upon  his  mattress. 

At  last  Old  Pluck  spoke.  "  Boys/'  he  said, 
"  all  is  now  quiet  below,  and  I  believe  those 
rascally  robbers  have  gone  to  bed.  Let  us 
wait  a  little  while  longer,  and  then  slip  down- 
stairs and  run  away.  We  can  surely  find  some 
door  or  window  which  we  can  open ;  and  I,  for 
one,  am  not  willing  to  stay  here  and  act  the 
8 


H4  Fanciful  Tales 

part  of  a  Christmas  slave  for  the  pleasure  oi 
these  bandits." 

"  No,"  exclaimed  Tomtit,  sitting  up  in  bed, 
so  as  to  expand  his  chest,  "  we  will  never  con- 
sent to  that." 

The  boys  eagerly  agreed  to  Old  Pluck's 
plan,  and  in  about  half  an  hour  they  quietly 
arose  and  stole  toward  the  stairs.  The  full 
moon  was  shining  in  through  the  windows,  so 
that  they  could  see  perfectly  well  where  they 
were  going.  They  had  gone  a  short  distance 
down  the  gre?/"  staircase,  when  Old  Pluck, 
who  led  the  way,  heard  a  slight  noise  behind 
him.  Turning  to  inquire  what  this  was,  he 
was  told  it  was  the  cracking  of  Tomtit's  knees. 

"  Pass  the  word  to  Tomtit,"  he  said,  in  a 
whisper,  "  that  if  he  can't  keep  his  knees  from 
cracking  he  must  stay  where  he  is." 

Poor  little  Tomtit,  who  brought  up  the  rear, 
was  dreadfully  troubled  when  he  heard  this ; 
but  he  bravely  passed  the  word  back  that  his 
knees  should  not  crack  any  more,  and  the  line 
moved  on. 

It  was  difficult  now  for  Tomtit  to  take  a 
step,  for  if  he  bent  his  knees  they  were  sure  to 
crack.  He  tried  going  downstairs  stiff-legged, 
like  a  pair  of  scissors ;  but  this  he  found  almost 
impossible,  so  he  made  up  his  mind  that  the 


The  Christmas   Truants  115 

only  thing  he  could  do  was  to  slide  down  the 
broad  banister.  He  was  used  to  this  feat,  and 
he  performed  it  with  much  dexterity.  The 
banister,  however,  was  very  smooth  and  steep, 
and  he  went  down  much  faster  than  he  in- 
tended, shooting  off  at  the  bottom,  and  land- 
ing on  the  floor  on  the  broad  of  his  back. 

The  boys  were  now  in  the  great  hall,  and, 
seeing  a  light  in  the  adjoining  room,  they 
looked  into  it.  There,  upon  couches  made  of 
the  skins  of  wild  beasts,  they  saw  the  six  rob- 
bers, fast  asleep.  A  happy  thought  now  came 
into  the  mind  of  Old  Pluck.  Stepping  back, 
he  looked  around  him,  and  soon  perceived  in 
one  corner  of  the  hall  a  quantity  of  rich  stuffs 
and  other  booty,  bound  up  into  bundles  with 
heavy  cords.  Taking  out  his  knife  he  quickly 
cut  off  a  number  of  these  cords  and  gave  them 
to  his  companions. 

"  Boys,"  he  then  whispered, "  I  have  thought 
of  a  splendid  plan.  Let  us  bind  these  robbers 
hand  and  foot,  and  then,  instead  of  doing  what 
they  want  us  to  do,  we  can  make  them  do  what 
we  want.  That  will  be  ever  so  much  better 
fun  than  running  away." 

"  Good  !  "  said  the  boys.  "  But  suppose  they 
wake  up  while  we  are  tying  them  ?  " 

"  If  we  are  truly  brave,"  said  Old  Pluck,  "  we 


n6  Fanciful  Tales 

must  just  go  ahead,  and  not  think  of  anything 
like  that." 

"  Yes,  sir,"  said  Tomtit,  straightening  him- 
self and  throwing  out  his  chest,  "we  mustn't 
think  of  anything  of  that  sort." 

The  little  fellow  was  terribly  frightened  at 
the  idea  of  going  into  that  room  and  tying 
those  big,  savage  men  ;  but  if  the  other  fellows 
did  it,  he  was  bound  to  do  it  too. 

The  boys  now  softly  slipped  into  the  room, 
and  as  the  robbers  slept  very  soundly,  it  was 
not  long  before  they  were  all  securely  bound 
hand  and  foot,  Old  Pluck  going  around  him- 
self to  see  that  every  cord  was  well  drawn 
and  knotted.  Then,  motioning  to  the  boys  to 
follow  him,  he  went  into  the  great  hall,  and 
there  he  ordered  his  companions  to  arm  them- 
selves. 

This  command  was  obeyed  with  delight  by 
the  boys.  Some  took  swords,  some  spears, 
while  others  bound  around  their  waists  great 
belts  containing  daggers  and  knives.  Old 
Pluck  laid  hold  of  a  huge  battle-axe,  while 
Tomtit  clapped  on  his  head  the  chief's  hat,  or- 
namented with  eagle  plumes,  and  took  into  his 
hand  a  thin,  sharp  rapier,  the  blade  of  which 
was  quite  as  long  as  himself. 

When  all  were  ready,  the  boys  reentered  the 


The  Christmas   Truants  117 

other  room,  and,  with  their  weapons  in  their 
hands,  stood  over  the  sleeping  robbers.  Rais- 
ing his  heavy  battle-axe  high  above  the  head  of 
the  chief,  Old  Pluck  called  out  to  him  to  awake. 
Instantly  every  man  opened  his  eyes,  and 
struggled  to  rise.  But  when  they  found  their 
hands  and  feet  were  tied,  and  saw  the  boys  with 
their  swords  and  spears  standing  over  them, 
and  heard  Old  Pluck's  loud  voice  ordering  them 
not  to  move,  every  robber  lay  flat  on  his  back, 
and  remained  perfectly  still. 

"  Now,  then,"  said  Old  Pluck  to  the  chief, 
"  if  you  do  not  promise  that  you  and  your  men 
will  obey  me  for  the  next  two  days  I  will  split 
your  head  with  this  axe." 

"  I  am  willing  to  parley  with  you,"  said  the 
chief,  "  and  will  listen  to  all  you  have  to  say ; 
but  for  mercy's  sake  put  down  that  battle-axe. 
It  is  too  heavy  for  you,  and  you  will  let  it  drop 
on  me  without  intending  it." 

"  No,"  said  Old  Pluck,  steadying  the  great 
axe  as  well  as  he  could,  "  I  will  hold  it  over  you 
until  we  have  made  our  bargain." 

"Speak  quickly,  then,"  said  the  chief,  his 
face  turning  pale  as  he  looked  up  at  the  trem- 
bling axe. 

"  All  you  have  to  do,"  said  Old  Pluck,  "  is  to 
promise  that  you  and  your  men  will  do  every- 


n8  Fanciful   Tales 

thing  that  we  tell  you  to  do  to-morrow  and 
next  day.  You  will  not  find  our  tasks  at  all 
difficult,  and  it  will  be  only  for  two  days,  you 
know." 

"  Any  sort  of  a  task,  if  it  lasted  a  year,"  said 
the  chief,  "  would  be  better  than  having  you 
staggering  over  me  with  that  battle-axe.  I 
promise  without  reserve  for  myself  and  men." 

"  Very  good,"  said  Old  Pluck,  letting  down 
his  axe  as  carefully  as  he  could.  "  And  now 
we  will  set  you  free." 

The  men  were  untied,  and  the  boys  went  to 
bed,  and  the  next  morning  all  breakfasted 
together  in  the  great  hall.  When  the  meal  was 
over  the  chief  pushed  back  his  chair,  and  ad- 
dressed the  boys. 

"Now,  then,  my  young  friends,"  said  he, 
u  what  is  it  that  you  wish  me  and  my  men  to 
do?" 

Then  stood  up  Old  Pluck  and  said,  "We 
boys,  as  I  told  you  before,  ran  away  from 
school  because  we  are  tired  of  the  old  hum- 
drum Christmas ;  and  nothing  better  could  have 
happened  to  us  than  to  get  you  fine  fellows  into 
our  power,  as  we  have  done.  It  will  be  the 
jolliest  thing  in  the  world  for  us  to  see  you  and 
your  band  go  through  all  the  wild  feats  and 
bold  exploits  which  belong  to  robber  life ;  and 


The  Christmas    Truants  119 

we  would  like  you  to  begin  now,  and  keep  it 
up  all  day  and  to-morrow." 

"  But  what  would  you  have  us  do  ?  "  asked 
the  chief,  somewhat  surprised. 

"  I  should  like  to  see  you  sack  a  village," 
said  Old  Pluck.  "  How  would  that  suit  you, 
boys?" 

The  boys  all  declared  that  they  thought  that 
would  do  very  well,  to  begin  with. 

The  chief  turned  to  his  lieutenant  and  said : 
"  Is  there  any  village  round  here  that  has  not 
been  recently  sacked  ?  " 

The  lieutenant  reflected  a  moment.  "  There 
is  Buville,"  he  said.  "  We  haven't  been  there 
for  six  months." 

"  Very  good,"  said  the  captain,  rising ;  "  we'll 
sack  Buville." 

In  a  short  time  the  robber  band,  followed 
by  the  eleven  boys,  set  out  for  Buville,  a  few 
miles  distant.  When  they  came  within  sight 
of  the  village  the  chief  ordered  his  company 
to  get  behind  a  hedge  which  ran  on  one  side 
of  the  road,  and  thus  stealthily  approach  the 
place. 

As  soon  as  they  were  near  enough  the  chief 
gave  a  loud  whistle,  and  the  whole  company 
rushed  wildly  into  the  main  street.  The  rob- 
bers flashed  their  drawn  swords  in  the  sunlight 


120  Fanciful  Tales 

and  brandished  their  spears,  while  the  boys 
jumped  and  howled  like  so  many  apprentice 
bandits. 

"  Buville  is  ours !  "  cried  the  chief.  "  Come 
forth,  ye  base  villagers,  and  pay  us  tribute." 

"  Come  forth  !  "  yelled  little  Tomtit.  "  Sur- 
render, and  trib ! — I  mean,  pay  tribute." 

At  this  the  people  began  to  flock  into  the 
street ;  and  presently  the  principal  man  of  the 
village  appeared,  carrying  a  sheet  of  paper  and 
pen  and  ink. 

"  Good-morning,  bold  sir,"  he  said,  address- 
ing the  chief.  "  And  what  is  it  you'll  have  to- 
day ?  Shall  we  begin  with  flour  ?  How  will 
two  barrels  do  ?  " 

The  chief  nodded,  and  the  man  wrote  down 
on  his  paper  two  barrels  of  flour. 

"  Sugar,  hams,  and  eggs,  I  suppose  ?  "  contin- 
ued the  man. 

The  chief  assented,  and  these  were  written 
down. 

"  Sundry  groceries,  of  course  r  said  he. 
u  And  would  you  care  for  any  rich  stuffs  ?  " 

"  Well,  I  don't  know  that  we  need  any  just 
now,"  said  the  chief ;  "  but  you  might  throw  in 
enough  gold-threaded  blue  taffeta  to  make  a 
Jerkin  for  that  little  codger  back  there." 

"Three-quarters  of  a  yard  of  blue  taffeta/' 


The  Christmas   Truants  121 

wrote  the  man.  And  then  he  looked  up  and 
asked :  "  Anything  else  to-day  ?  " 

"  I  believe  not,"  said  the  chief.  And  then 
brandishing  his  sword,  he  shouted :  "  Back  to 
your  homes,  base  villagers,  and  thank  your 
stars  that  I  let  ye  off  so  easily." 

"  Home  with  ye ! "  shouted  Tomtit,  "  and 
keep  on  star-thanking  till  we  come  again." 

"  You  need  be  in  no  hurry  about  sending 
those  things,"  said  the  chief  to  the  principal 
man,  as  he  was  about  to  leave,  "  except  the  taf- 
feta.    I'd  like  to  have  that  to-day." 

"Very  good,"  said  the  other;  "I'll  send  it 
immediately." 

As  the  robbers  and  boys  departed,  the  latter 
were  not  at  all  slow  to  say  that  they  were  very 
much  disappointed  at  what  they  had  seen.  It 
was  tamer  than  a  game  of  football. 

"  The  fact  is,"  said  the  chief,  "  these  villagers 
have  been  sacked  so  often  that  the  people  are 
used  to  it,  and  they  just  walk  out  and  pay  up 
without  making  any  row  about  it.  It's  the 
easiest  way,  both  for  them  and  for  us ;  but  1 
admit  that  it  is  not  very  exciting." 

"  I  should  say  not,"  said  Old  Pluck.  "  What 
I  want  is  '  the  wild  rush  and  dash,  the  clink 
and  the  clank,  and  the  jingly-jank,  hi-ho ! '  " 

"  That's  so ! "  shouted  little  Tomtit.    "  '  The 


122  Fanciful  Tales 

clink  and  the  clank,  and  the  jingly-jank,   ho 
hi  I  • " 

"  I  think  we'll  next  try  a  highway  robbery," 
said  Old  Pluck,  "  and  stop  a  company  of  trav- 
ellers on  the  road.     That  must  be  exciting." 

The  boys  all  shouted  their  assent  to  this 
plan,  and  the  robber  chief  led  the  way  to  the 
nearest  high-road. 

Here  the  whole  party  concealed  themselves 
behind  rocks  and  bushes,  and  waited  patiently 
for  a  company  of  travellers  to  pass  by.  It  was 
a  long,  long  time  before  anybody  came,  and 
Tomtit  had  a  sound  nap  in  the  shade  of  a 
hedge. 

At  last  dust  was  seen  in  the  distance,  and  be- 
fore long  five  horsemen  came  riding  up.  They 
were  all  elderly  men,  and  each  of  them  led  a 
mule  or  a  horse,  loaded  with  heavy  panniers 
and  packages.  With  drawn  swords  and  bran- 
dished spears  the  robbers  rushed  out,  followed 
by  the  boys,  with  yells  and  shouts.  Instantly 
the  elderly  men  stopped  and  descended  from 
their  horses. 

"  We  surrender,"  said  the  leader  to  the  rob- 
ber chief ;  "  but  we  pray  you  will  not  pillage 
us  utterly.  We  are  going  to  seek  a  new  home 
for  our  families,  and  for  the  money  we  get  for 
the  sale  of  these  goods  we  hope  to  buy  the  lit 


The  Christmas   Truants  123 

tie  land  we  need.  If  you  take  these,  you  leave 
us  nothing." 

The  chief  turned  to  Old  Pluck,  and  said  : 
"  Well,  what  shall  we  do  about  it  ?  Shall,  we 
take  their  goods  ?  " 

"  If  you  set  out  to  do  a  thing,"  said  Old 
Pluck,  "  I  don't  see  why  you  don't  do  it. 
There's  no  sense  in  backing  down." 

"  That's  so ! "  cried  Tomtit,  who  had  just 
wakened  up,  and  pushed  his  way  through  the 
hedge.  "  No  backing  down.  Your  money  or 
your  lives,  travellers.     Take  notice  of  that." 

"  Lead  away  the  horses  and  mules,"  said  the 
chief  to  his  men,  "  and  let  the  travellers  go." 

As  they  were  leaving  the  scene  of  this  exploit 
Old  Pluck  did  not  feel  altogether  easy  in  his 
mind.  "  There  used  to  be  a  good  habit  among 
robbers,"  he  said  to  the  chief,  "  and  that  was 
to  give  to  the  poor  what  they  took  from  the 
rich.  We  will  go  along  this  road  until  we 
meet  some  really  poor  people,  and  we  will  give 
them  these  goods." 

The  robbers  and  boys,  with  the  loaded  horses 
and  mules,  walked  along  the  road  for  nearly 
an  hour,  but  met  with  no  poor  people.  At  last 
the  chief  declared  that  it  was  time  to  turn  and 
go  back  to  the  castle,  if  they  wanted  to  be  there 
by  dinner-time.    The  boys  were  very  willing 


124  Fanciful  Tales 

to  go  to  dinner,  and  the  whole  party  retraced 
1  their  steps. 

When  they  reached  the  spot  where  they  had 
robbed  the  travellers,  they  were  surprised  to 
see  the  five  elderly  men  sitting  by  the  roadside, 
groaning  mournfully. 

"  What,  here  yet !  "  cried  the  chiet.  "  What's 
the  matter  ?  " 

"  There  is  no  use  going  anywhere,"  sadly  re- 
plied the  leader.  "  We  have  no  money  with 
which  to  buy  even  food  to  eat,  and  no  goods 
to  sell.  We  might  as  well  die  here  as  in  any 
other  place." 

"Boys,"  exclaimed  Old  Pluck,  after  gazing 
a  few  moments  on  the  unfortunate  group,  "  I 
don't  believe  we  will  ever  find  anybody  as  poor 
as  these  travellers  now  are.  Let  us  give  them 
the  goods." 

"All  right!"  shouted  the  boys.  And  the 
loaded  horses  and  mules  were  delivered  to 
their  former  owners. 

After  dinner  the  boys  began  to  grumble  a 
good  deal  at  the  disappointments  of  the  morn- 
ing. 

"  We've  done  nothing  yet,"  cried  Old  Pluck, 
"  that  is  half  exciting  enough,  and  we  are  bound 
to  have  a  good  time  this  afternoon.  I  go  in  for 
burning  a  town." 


The  Christmas   Truants  125 

"  Hurrah  !  "  said  the  boys.  "  We'll  burn  a 
town ! " 

"  That  is  a  very  serious  thing,"  said  the  chief. 
"  Can't  you  think  of  something  else  ?  " 

Old  Pluck  looked  at  him  reproachfully. 
"We  want  something  serious,"  he  said. 
"  What  we've  had  so  far  is  nothing  but  child's 
play." 

The  chief  now  saw  that  if  he  persisted  in  his 
objections  he  would  hurt  the  feelings  of  the 
boys,  and  so  he  consented  to  burn  a  town. 
A  few  miles  to  the  south  there  was  a  good- 
sized  town,  which  the  chief  thought  would 
burn  very  well,  and  thither  the  boys  and  rob- 
bers repaired,  carrying  blazing  torches  and  fire- 
brands. 

When  they  reached  the  town  and  had  made 
known  their  purpose  the  people  were  filled 
with  alarm.  They  crowded  into  the  streets  and 
begged  the  robbers  not  to  burn  their  houses, 
their  goods,  and  perhaps  themselves  and  their 
children. 

The  chief  now  took  the  boys  aside,  and  con* 
suited  with  them. 

"  I  wish  you  would  consider  this  matter  a 
little  more  before  you  order  me  to  set  this  town 
in  flames.  I  am  told  that  there  is  a  magazine 
filled  with  gunpowder  in  the  centre  of  the  place, 


126  Fanciful  Tales 

and  there  will  be  a  terrible  explosion  when  the 
fire  reaches  it." 

"  Hurrah !  "  cried  the  boys  ;  "  that  will  be 
splendid." 

"  Many  of  these  citizens  will  lose  their  lives/" 
said  the  chief,  "  and  the  rest  will  be  utterly 
ruined." 

"  Now,  look  here,"  cried  Old  Pluck,  "  there's 
no  use  of  always  backing  down.  I'm  tired  of 
it" 

'•'  Very  well,"  said  the  chief,  "  but  you  your- 
selves must  inform  the  people  of  your  de- 
cision. 

"  We'll  do  that,"  said  Old  Pluck.  "  Tomtit, 
you  go  tell  those  people  that  the  town  has  got 
to  burn,  and  there's  no  use  talking  any  more 
about  it." 

"  That's  so,"  said  Tomtit.  "  She  has  got  to 
burn."  And  with  his  chest  thrown  out,  and  his 
hands  in  his  pockets,  the  little  fellow  boldly  ad- 
vanced to  the  crowd  of  people. 

As  soon  as  he  came  near  the  old  men,  the 
women  and  the  children  fell  on  their  knees 
around  him,  and  with  tears  and  lamentations 
besought  him  to  intercede  with  the  robbers  to 
save  their  town.  Poor  little  Tomtit  was  very 
touch  moved  by  their  wild  grief  and  despair. 
Tears  f  ame  into  his  eyes,  and  his  little  chest 


The  Christmas  Truants  127 

heaved  with  emotion ;  but  he  kept  up  a  brave 
heart,  and  stood  true  to  his  companions. 

"  It's  no  use,"  he  said,  "  for  you  to  be  blub- 
bering and  crying.  Your  houses  have  all  got 
to  be  burned  up,  and  the  powder-magazine  has 
got  to  go  off  with  a  big  bang,  and  your  furni- 
ture and  beds  will  all  be  burned,  and  the  ba- 
bies' cradles,  and — and — I'm  awful  sorry  for 
it,"  and  here  the  tears  rolled  down  his  cheeks ; 
"  but  we  boys  have  got  to  stick  by  each  other, 
and  you  won't  have  any  homes,  and  I  expect 
you  will  all  perish — boo-hoo !  But  it  won't  do 
to  back  down — boo-hoo-hoo !  And  the  little 
babies  will  die ;  but  the  old  thing  has  got  to 
burn,  you  know." 

"  Now,  look  here,  Tomtit,"  said  Old  Pluck, 
who,  with  the  rest  of  the  boys,  had  drawn  near, 
"  don't  you  be  too  hard  on  these  people.  I  say 
let  the  town  stand." 

The  boys  agreed  with  one  voice.  And  Tom- 
tit, kicking  one  of  his  little  legs  above  his  head, 
shouted  in  ecstasy :  "  Yes,  sir,  let  the  town 
stand,  babies  and  all." 

At  this  the  women  rushed  up  to  the  little  fel- 
low, and,  seizing  him  in  their  arms,  nearly 
kissed  him  to  death. 

"  I'd  like  to  know  what  we  are  to  do  next," 
sadly  remarked  Old  Pluck, 


128  Fanciful  Tales 

"  I'll  tell  you,"  cried  Tomtit.  "  Let  the  chiei 
steal  a  bride." 

The  whole  company  stopped  and  looked  at 
Tomtit.  "  Little  boy,"  said  they,  "  what  do  you 
mean  ?  " 

"  Why,  of  course,"  said  Tomtit,  "  I  mean  for 
the  chief  to  seize  a  fair  damsel  and  carry  her 
off  on  his  horse  to  be  his  bride,  the  wild  hoofs 
clattering  amid  the  crags." 

"  Hoot ! "  cried  all  the  boys  in  derision.  And 
the  chief  said  to  Tomtit :  "  Little  boy,  I  know 
of  no  fair  damsel  to  steal,  and,  besides,  I  do  not 
want  a  bride." 

"  It's  pretty  hard,"  said  Tomtit,  wiping  his 
eyes  with  his  little  sleeve.  "  I've  done  just 
what  you  fellows  told  me  to,  and  now  you 
won't  order  anything  I  want  to  see." 

That  night  the  boys  ordered  the  robbers  to 
hold  high  revels  in  the  great  hall.  The  flowing 
bowl  was  passed,  and  the  great  flagons  were 
filled  high  ;  wild  songs  were  sung,  and  the  wel- 
kin was  made  to  ring,  as  well  as  the  robbers 
could  do  it,  with  jovial  glee.  The  boys  watched 
the  proceedings  for  some  time,  but  they  did 
not  find  them  very  interesting,  and  soon  went 
to  bed. 

The  next  morning  Old  Pluck  called  a  meet- 
ing of  his  companions.     "  Boys,"  he  said,  "  this 


The  Christmas   Truants  129 

robber  life  is  a  good  deal  stupider  than  any- 
thing we  left  behind  us.  Let's  get  back  to 
school  as  fast  as  we  can,  and  enjoy  what  is  left 
of  the  Christmas  fun.  We  will  all  admit  that 
we  are  sorry  for  what  we  have  done,  and  will 
promise  not  to  run  away  again  ;  and  Tomtit  can 
go  to  the  master  and  tell  him  so." 

"  I'll  be  the  first  one  whipped,"  ruefully  re- 
marked Tomtit ;  "  but  if  you  boys  say  so,  of 
course  I'll  do  it." 

The  boys  now  took  leave  of  the  robbers, 
Tomtit  having  been  first  presented  with  the 
piece  of  blue  taffeta  to  make  him  a  jerkin. 
When  they  reached  the  school  Tomtit  told  his 
tale,  and  he  was  the  only  one  who  was  not  pun- 
ished. 

The  next  year  these  eleven  boys  were  leav- 
ing school  for  a  vacation,  and  on  their  way 
home  they  thought  they  would  stop  and  see 
their  old  friends,  the  robbers.  Much  to  their 
surprise,  they  found  everything  changed  at  the 
castle.  It  was  now  a  bovs*  school;  the  chief 
was  the  principal,  and  each  of  the  other  rob-' 
bers  was  a  teacher. 

"  You  see,"  said  the  principal  to  Old  Pluck, 

■*  we  never  knew  how  stupid  and  uninteresting 

a  robber's  life  was  until  we  were  forced  to  lead 

it  against  our  will.     While  you  were  here  we 

9 


130  Fanciful   Tales 

learned  to  like  boys  very  much,  and  so  we  con. 
eluded  to  set  up  this  school." 

"  Do  you  have  Christmas  trees,  and  carolSj 
and  games  ?  " 

"  Oh,  yes,"  answered  the  principal. 

"  So  do  we,"  said  Old  Pluck. 

"  Yes,  sir,"  exclaimed  Tomtit,  standing  uy 
very  straight.  "  No  more  fire  and  tribute  for 
us.  We've  grown  out  of  that  kind  of  nor> 
sense ' 


SUGGESTIONS  TO  TEACHERS 

These  suggestions  and  questions  are  prepared  to 
aid  the  child  in  getting  food  for  thought  Many- 
ethical  questions  are  touched  upon  in  these  stories, 
phases  of  the  great  problems  of  life  which  each 
citizen  must  solve  for  himself.  The  school-room 
is  a  little  community,  of  which  each  child  is  a  unit,, 
and  there  he  should  get  training  for  good  citizen- 
ship. Let  him  grapple,  then,  with  these  questions, 
for  he  would  better  be  striving  after  a  large  truth 
than  altogether  absorbing  a  little  one. 

OLD   PIPES   AND   THE  DRYAD 

This  story  is  akin  to  the  Greek  and  the  Latin  myths,  and 
will  lead  you  back  to  the  beginnings  of  literature,  to  the 
myth  of  Daphne  and  her  changing  to  a  laurel-tree,  the  myth 
of  Dryope,  and  Virgil's  account  of  the  transformation  of 
Polydore  (TEneid,  Book  III.) — all  of  which  are  tree-myths. 
Conington's  metrical  translation  of  Virgil  tells  this  story  very 
musically. 

These  dryad  stories  have  been  the  inspiration  of  poets  and 
artists  of  all  ages.  I  hope  you  may  some  day  see  the  beau- 
tiful picture  of  Daphne  changing  to  the  laurel-tree  that  a 
French  artist  has  painted. 

It  will  add  much  to  the  value  of  the  child's  study  of  litera- 
ture if  the  teacher  will  read  or  tell  these  myths  to  the  chil- 


132  Fanciful  Tales 

dren.  They  may  be  found  in  Gayley's  "  Classic  Myths,** 
Murray's  "  Mythology,"  Bulfinch's  "  Mythology,"  or  any 
classical  dictionary. 

It  is  easy  for  us  to  see  that,  in  this  myth  of  Daphne,  the 
Greek  people  were  telling  us,  in  their  poetic  way,  that  the 
dawn  ever  flew  at  the  sun's  approach. 

In  this  story  the  loving  helpfulness  of  Old  Pipes  brought 
back  his  strength  and  youth  quite  as  much  as  the  kiss  of  the 
Dryad  ;  for  are  we  not  always  strong  and  happy  when  help- 
ing others  ? 

What  other  pieces  of  literature  teach  this  lesson  ? 

Read  Lowell's  poem,  "  Rhcecus." 

Compare  the  dryad  in  Stockton's  story  with  the  dryads  of 
the  myths. 

How  do  you  think  this  idea  of  dryads  originated  ? 

Discuss  the  character  of  Old  Pipes.  Have  you  ever  met 
another  like  him  in  your  reading  ? 

Did  the  Dryad  do  right  in  not  returning  the  money  to  the 
villagers  ? 

THE  BEE-MAN  OF  ORN 

This  story  can  be  made  a  starting-point  for  interesting 
science  lessons.  Children  can  easily  observe  the  habits  of 
bees.  In  ancient  times,  when  honey  was  a  staple  article  of 
food,  much  was  thought  and  written  about  the  care  of  bees. 
Read  with  the  children  John  Burroughs'  "  Birds  and  Bees," 
also  bits  from  Virgil's  "  Georgics,"  Book  IV. 

Lead  the  children  to  discuss  the  following  points  : 

Why  did  the  bees  not  sting  the  Bee-Man  ? 

What  is  it  that  leads  animals  to  like  a  person  ? 

Did  his  ugly  appearance  hinder  the  bees  from  liking  the 
Bee-Man  ?    Would  it  hinder  you  from  liking  him  ? 

Do  you  think  the  Bee-Man  had  flowers  growing  in  the 
little  garden  outside  his  hut  ? 

What  kind  of  flowers  ?    Why  ? 


Suggestions  to   Teachers  133 

Do  all  flowers  with  perfume  yield  honey? 

Which  would  derive  more  pleasure  from  watching  the  life 
and  habits  of  bees,  a  busy  person  or  a  lazy  one  ? 

Do  bees  make  weather  observations  ?  Virgil  says  that 
bees  do  not  go  far  from  the  hive  when  an  east  wind  is  blow- 
ing. 

What  do  you  think  was  the  Junior  Sorcerer's  reason  for 
thinking  the  Bee-Man  had  been  transformed  ? 

Do  you  agree  with  the  Junior  Sorcerer  in  his  opinion  of 
the  Bee-Man  :  that  he  was  a  "  miserable  old  man  "  ? 

When  the  Bee-Man  first  felt  himself  drawn  toward  the 
Lord  of  the  Domain,  what  was  it  that  influenced  him  ?  Are 
appearances  to  be  trusted  ? 

Do  you  ever  meet  people  who,  like  the  Languid  Youth, 
dislike  to  face  duty  alone,  and  would  always  rather  have 
some  one  go  with  them  ? 

The  Bee-Man  shrunk  from  entering  the  cavern,  yet  within 
it  he  found  that  phase  of  life  toward  which  he  was  most 
drawn;  so  the  unpleasant  duties  of  life  from  which  we  so 
often  shrink  contain  the  best  things  that  life  has  in  store  for 
us. 

Suppose  the  Languid  Youth  had  found  the  baby  in  the 
cavern,  what  would  he  have  done  ? 

If  you  had  a  chance  to  go  back  to  your  babyhood  again, 
do  you  think  you  would  grow  up  to  be  the  same  person  that 
you  are  now  ? 

Which  character  in  this  story  do  you  like  best  ?    Why  ? 

THE  CLOCKS  OF  RONDAINE 

This  story  naturally  leads  to  the  history  of  clocks  and  time- 
pieces of  various  kinds,  from  the  crude  hour-glass,  the  burn- 
ing candle  graduated  to  last  a  certain  time,  the  water-clock, 
much  the  same  as  the  hour-glass,  and  the  dial  on  which  the 
shadow  of  the  sun  is  traced,  down  to  the  clocks  which  we 


134  Fancifuc  Tales 

&£?*;  now,  and  especially  those  of  finest  mechanism  and 
beautiful  ornamentation. 

The  industry  of  clock-making  is  a  very  important  one.  In 
the  United  States  it  has  been  built  up  almost  entirely  in  the 
last  sixty  years. 

Many  years  ago  clock  movements  were  made  of  wood; 
now  they  are  made,  as  every  child  knows,  of  metal,  which  is 
cheaper  to  manufacture  and  more  durable. 

In  the  days  of  the  Revolution  many  clocks  were  made  in 
Connecticut,  using  no  machinery  in  their  manufacture,  but 
cutting  the  wheels  and  teeth  with  a  saw  and  jack-knife. 
Then  the  makers  would  travel  to  the  more  recently  settled 
country  and  sell  these  crude  wooden  clocks  for  twenty-five 
dollars  apiece. 

A  description  and  pictures  of  the  Strasbourg  Clock  could 
be  made  interesting  here. 

In  what  part  of  the  world  do  you  think  Rondaine  was  ? 

What  characteristics  should  you  expect  to  find  in  the  peo- 
ple or  a  town  containing  so  many  clocks  ? 

What  particular  occupations  should  you  expect  to  find 
these  people  following  ? 

For  which  did  the  people  care  more,  clocks  or  time  ? 

We  thought,  in  the  early  part  of  the  stony,  that  Aria  was 
the  only  person  in  all  Rondaine  who  cared  to  know  the  cor- 
rect time.     Do  you  still  think  so,  after  finishing  the  story? 

Suppose  we  followed  the  reasoning  of  the  little  old  lady 
with  white  hair,  saying  that  what  was  good  enough  for  our 
grandfathers  is  good  enough  for  us,  how  would  it  affect  the 
world  ? 

Is  there  anything  in  this  story  that  seems  improbable,  that 
is,  does  it  seem  like  a  true  story  ? 

What  truth  does  it  leave  with  us  ? 


Suggestions  to    Teachers  135 


THE   GRIFFIN  AND   THE   MINOR  CANON 

Lead  pupils  to  discuss  their  ideas  of  griffins  before  reading 
the  story. 

To  what  age  of  literature  do  griffin  and  dragon  stories 
belong  ? 

How  could  the  Griffin  know  that  the  stone  image  was  a 
good  likeness  of  himself  ? 

What  things  do  you  think  the  Griffin  told  the  Minor  Canon 
about  minerals,  metals,  and  the  wonders  of  the  world  ? 

Stop  at  the  point  in  the  story  just  prior  to  the  sending 
away  of  the  Minor  Canon,  and  let  the  children  discuss  what 
they  would  have  done  under  those  circumstances. 

Do  you  agree  with  the  Griffin  in  his  opinion  of  the  only 
two  good  things  in  the  town  ? 

What  did  the  Griffin  mean  when  he  said,  "  If  some  things 
were  different,  other  things  would  be  otherwise  "  ? 

Thus  we  learn  that  goodness,  bravery,  and  honesty,  even 
in  a  griffin,  demand  for  companionship  goodness,  bravery, 
and  honesty. 

Ruskin  says  some  very  good  things  about  dragons  in  the 
first  few  pages  of  "  The  Queen  of  the  Air." 

How  do  the  things  we  see  every  day  affect  our  characters  ? 

Some  very  interesting  and  profitable  comparisons  may  be 
made  between  this  story  and  Hawthorne's  story  of  the 
"  Great  Stone  Face  " ;  and  since  comparison  is  such  a  mind- 
strengthener,  the  teacher  should  never  lose  such  an  oppor* 
taraity. 


THE  SCRIBNER  SERIES 
of  SCHOOL  READING 


A  "Uniform  supplementary  reading  series,  specially  edited  for  use  in  elemen- 
tary schools  and  carefully  graded  in  accordance  with  results  obtained  from  actual 
tests  in  the  class  room.  The  main  purpose  of  this  series  is  to  introduce  into  the 
class  room  the  best  literature,  particularly  the  Writings  of  those  contemporary 
American  authors  who  naturally  appeal  to  young  people,  and  to  bring  this  ex- 
cellent literature  within  the  reach  of  all  schools  by  offering  the  books  at  a  very 
moderate  price.  The  volumes  are  profusely  illustrated,  and  handsomely  and 
durably  bound. 

Fanciful  Tales.  By  Frank  R.  Stockton.  Edited  by  Julia  E. 
Langworthy.     Illustrated. 

Hans  Brinker.    By  Mary  Mapes  Dodge.    Illustrated. 

A  Child's  Garden  of  Verses.  By  Robert  Louis  Stevenson. 
Illustrated. 

Some  Merry  Adventures  of  Robin  Hood.  By  Howard  Pyle. 
Illustrated  by  the  author. 

America  First.     By  Frances  Nimmo  Greene.    Illustrated. 

The  Hoosier  School  Boy.  By  Edward  Eggleston.  Illus- 
trated. 

Krag  and  Johnny  Bear.  Being  the  Personal  Histories  of  Krag, 
Randy,  Johnny  Bear,  and  Chink.  By  Ernest  Thompson 
Seton.     Illustrated. 

Lobo,  Rag,  and  Vixen.  Selections  from  "Wild  Animals  I  Have 
Known."  By  Ernest  Thompson  Seton.  With  4  full-page 
and  many  other  illustrations  from  drawings  by  the  Author. 

Hero  Tales  Told  in  School,     By  James  Baldwin.     Illustrated. 

The  Page  Story  Book.  Selections  for  School  Reading  by  Thomas 
Nelson  Page.  Edited  by  Frank  Ti.  Spalding  and  Cather- 
ine T.  Bryce. 

The  van  Dyke  Book.  Selections  for  School  Reading.  By  Henry 
van  Dyke.  Edited  by  Professor  Edwin  Mims.  A  new  edition, 
revised,  with  an  introduction  by  Maxwell  Struthers  Burt. 
Illustrated. 

The  Howells  Story  Book.  By  William  Dean  Howells.  Selected 
and  arranged  by  Mary  E.  Burt.     Illustrated  by  Miss  Howells. 


The  Eugene  Field  Book.  Verses,  Stories,  and  Letters  for  School, 
Reading.  By  Eugene  Field.  Edited  by  Mary  E.  Burt 
and  Mary  L.  Cable.  With  an  Introduction  by  George  W. 
Cable.     Illustrated. 

The  Lanier  Book.  Selections  for  School  Reading.  By  Sidney 
Lanier.  Edited  and  arranged  by  Mary  E.  Burt,  in  co-oper- 
ation with  Mrs.  Lanier.    Illustrated. 

The  Cable  Story  Book.  Selections  for  School  Reading.  By 
George  W.  Cable.  Edited  by  Mary  E.  Burt  and  Lucy  L. 
Cable.     Illustrated. 

The  Roosevelt  Book.  Selections  from  the  writings  of  Theo- 
dore Roosevelt,  with  an  introduction  by  Robert  Bridges. 
Illustrated. 

Things  Will  Take  a  Turn.  By  Beatrice  Harraden.  Illus- 
trated. 

Around  the  World  in  the  Sloop  Spray.  By  Captain  Joshua 
Slocum.     Illustrated. 

Twelve  Naval  Captains.    With  portraits.    By  Molly  Elliott' 

Seawell. 

Poems  of  American  Patriotism.  Chosen  by  Brander  Mat* 
thews. 

Children's    Stories   of   American   Literature,    1660-1860.     By 

Henrietta  Christian  Wright.. 

Children's    Stories    of    American    Literature,    1860-1896.    By 

Henrietta  Christian  Wright. 

Children's  Stories  in  American  History.  By  Henrietta  Chris- 
tian Wright. 

Children's  Stories  in  American  Progress.  By  Henrietta  Chris- 
tian Wright. 

Herakles,  the  Hero  of  Thebes,  and  Other  Heroes  of  the  Myth. 
By  Mary  E.  Burt  and  Zenaide  Ragezin.     Illustrated. 

Odysseus:  The  Hero  of  Ithaca.   By  Mary  E.  Burt.   Illustrated. 

The  Boy  General.  By  Mrs.  George  A.  Custer  and  Mary  E. 
Burt.     Illustrated. 

Don  Quixote  De  La  Mancha.  By  Miguel  de  Cervantes.  From 
the  translations  of  Duffield  and  Shelton.  By  Mary  E.  Burt 
and  Lucy  Leffingwell  Cable. 


